Certain nightmares plagued you for the past couple of days and Valko has taken notice of this, coming to your aid to remind you that he's there.
this fic contains: no major plot, fluff, comfort, reassurance, snuggling, cuddling, valko just being a softie, sweetheart as a pet name, not proofread, maybe ooc valko but that's bc they didn't even gave us the chance to get to know him better 💔
wc: 618
note: i wrote this drabble primarily as a way to comfort myself after the recent events regarding the cancellation of valko and i wanted to share this short drabble just in case you are also in need of such comfort #bringbackvalko!
“Nightmares?” Valko’s gruff voice enveloped your ears, his hands gently caressed your face.
You've been having nightmares lately about your boyfriend, always in the same situation, finding out that he suddenly disappeared from the face of the world. Not even given a chance to say your goodbye.
And you would wake up with tears streaming down your cheeks, damp and heavy while you try to process what you dreamt of… again and again. Afterwards, finding it a struggle to go back to sleep.
Because what if you woke up and he actually disappeared?
As usual, it was movie friday where he'd come over to your place and spend the night there watching movies and sharing a bed with you, and yet, even your favorite movie seemed to sour your mood and distract you due to your frequent nightmares.
Movie night ended on a whim when Valko noticed that you fell asleep. Silently, he closed the television and brought you to bed, getting ready himself to cozy up and snuggle you to sleep. That is, until the usual nightmare hit you.
And well, Valko can't help but worry over your current state, swollen eyes from excessive crying, the dark circles under your bags were evident—screaming that you've barely slept.
“C’mon, tell me what's wrong.” He gently leans closer, resting his side on your bed while the heat of his palm continues to spread through your cheeks. Valko gently rubs his thumb slowly, treasuring every moment he gets to hold you.
Your chest felt heavy, Valko's touch, gaze, and question made you feel valued and free.
“I will never judge you.” He adds, a silent seal of reassurance over whatever problem you were carrying.
“I've been having nightmares… “ You swallow thickly. “Nightmares about you disappearing.”
Valko cracks a gentle chuckle “Me? Disappear?” Finally slotting himself beside you; nuzzling close to you while his arms gently wrapped around your body.
“I'm here.”
His voice was enough to spark tears in your eyes, barely a word of explanation in yet he seems to fully grasp how you feel.
Valko has never been anything but kind to you, usually full of energy but in times like these, it felt so natural for him to just sympathize with you.
“See?” He meets your gaze, taking your hand to press against his face. “I’m still here…” He grazed your hand through his nose, lips, eyes…
“Aaaand this one is also here.” With a random poof, his wolf ears appeared—his head lowered while he guided your hand to touch them.
Tears still threaten to spill through your eyes and you can't help but sniffle, your vision blurring with every gentle guide his hand gave. “No.. Shh..” Valko lets go of your hand and holds you close to his chest.
“There there… Shh…” Valko hushes, his fingers running through your hair; massaging your scalp gently as his warmth starts lulling you to sleep.
“I'm okay, sweetheart.” You felt his lips press against your forehead for a long second. A single press of promise while he hugs you just a tad bit tighter.
His voice, his arms, his warmth. Valko’s presence kept you grounded, away from the nightmares you've been having. It feels as if even the slightest caress and touch from him is enough to calm you even through the toughest times.
Valko finally shuts his eyes, sleep finally getting a hold of him as well. “I'll be here when you sleep, and will still be here when you wake up.” His tail rests calmly on your thigh as he lifts his arm to drape the blanket over the two of you, giving you one last smooch and nuzzle before finally resting.
I just know that Valko's ears are soooo sensitive.
He usually kept his wolf side hidden from the public, seeing as he had a reputation to hold, but around you, he let it come out. Something about you just satisfied this primal part of him, had it relaxing whenever he was around you. You made him feel a little domesticated, and he was okay with that.
You figured out his sensitivity when you were cuddling during movie night. Every Friday, Valko made sure to make time for the two of you to snuggle up under some blankets and gorge yourselves on snacks as a movie you were a little too interested in played on the TV.
Usually, Valko would sit you on his lap and wrap his arms around you, keeping you caged close to him while his nose poked around against your neck, inhaling the way you smelled. His tail would gently thump against the cushions.
Today, however, you could tell that Valko was tired. He'd had a long week, attending boring meetings and spending long hours in the lab. You knew, without him having to tell you, that he needed some loving.
So when you had finished setting up the couch for movie night, instead of letting Valko pull you into him like he did every other night, you opened your arms and beckoned him to come to you.
"I want to be the big spoon tonight," you giggled, and who was Valko to deny you?
He crawled to you from his spot on the couch, resting his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. He sighed as he melted into you, his tail wagging contentedly behind him. With the lovable beast laying on top of you, you had no need for the blanket anymore, and so it lay forgotten on the floor.
You pressed play on the remote, eager to start the movie and help Valko take his mind off whatever was bugging him.
As the movie played, your hands came down to rest against Valko, one on his back and the other on his head. Subconsciously, your hands began to move, scratching gently at the undercut framing the back of his head and the muscles of his shoulders.
His reaction was immediate. His body relaxed fully onto yours, his head falling lax against your chest, his face buried into your skin. His tail fell against the couch, still for a moment, before it picked up and started wagging back and forth. Not fast enough to disturb you, but enough for you to know he was enjoying your movements.
"Go a little higher," he rasped, his voice having gone breathy and a little whiny. You obeyed, your hand traveling up his head, coming to rest on his wolf ears. Tentatively, you gave them a little scratch.
Valko shuddered against you, a whine clawing its way out of his throat. You paused, tilting your head.
"Does that hurt?" you asked. He shook his head, refusing to raise his face from your chest.
"Sensitive," he whispered, tightening his arms around you and pulling your closer to him, molding your body to his. "Keep going."
You smiled gently to yourself and resumed your movements. Every so often, Valko would shiver against you and let out a quiet yip and his lazy tail would thump a little too hard against the cushions, but he was more relaxed than you'd seen him all week.
You forgot all about the movie playing in the background. You were just happy to hold your puppy in your arms.
Rafayel loves everything about you : your physique, your laughter, your attitude, your sense of humor -- your existence itself is a reason for him to obsess over. Public or private, his affection remains the same : needy, clingy and dramatic.
He's the type to see a beautiful tulip on the ground and he'd pick the one with the prettiest shades of color ; he'd brush your hair aside as he tucks that little flower on top of your ear, a wide grin plastered on his face. His devotion and love for you is endless, passionate, wild. He has no shame carrying you on his back all the way home, he feels pride when he kneels down to offer you a bouquet of roses randomly, or even his heart races when he hears your laughter -- when he knows that he made you laugh, made you happy.
One of his golden memories (all your time spent together is priceless to him, obviously) was when you cupped his face after he won you your favorite plushie in the arcade. Instead of usually complimenting him, you squeezed his cheeks and gave a firm rough kiss on his lips. And it wasn't just one kiss, or two -- it was easily over a dozen. Rafayel counted it.
Thirteen kisses, to be exact.
He has never felt such overwhelming desire to propose to you, right then and there. That day, he became even more greedy for your kisses, for your affection.
When you would kiss him once, he'd pout.
''That's it ?'', or ''What can I do to get more kisses, cutie ?'', or even ''Since when did you become cheap with your kisses ?''
Rafayel has now become an insatiable lover -- if you are going to kiss him, it better be a count of ten at least.
After all, if he could burn the world for you, the minimum you could do is to pay back with kisses, right ?
Summary: The mission is almost over. Neither of you is ready to stop pretending.
Or, in other words: Sanji has spent four days trying to convince you that you're special. Now he has to convince you to believe him.
You can read the first part HERE.
Word count: about 11.8k (oops 🤭🤭)
Contains: fake dating, fake engagement, fluff, PINING, awkward overdramatic romance, a bit of angst, reader being insecure about how flirty Sanji is and his true feelings, a bit of blood, CONFESSION and a lot of tooth rotting fluff, lots of kissing.
Author’s Note: Finally, here’s the second part of the fake engagement story! I still think pining is my favorite thing to write, but these two deserved their happy ending. Thanks everyone so much for the love you showed Part 1! I hope you enjoy it, lovelies! 🩷
Morning slowly crept into the room through the narrow gap in the curtains you had forgotten to draw completely shut.
You could hear the steady rhythm of breathing lulling you back to sleep, and as you stirred slightly, you became aware of a weight around your waist tugging you closer.
As consciousness gradually returned, you realized your cheek was pressed against Sanji’s chest while his chin rested atop your head, tilted just enough that he could breathe in the scent of your hair. Strong arms held you securely against him, your legs tangled together so that your left leg rested beneath his right. The blanket, rather than covering either of you properly, had somehow ended up wrapped around your waists, tossed carelessly across your stomachs sometime during the night.
Your heart fluttered.
Even if you’d wanted to escape, you doubted you could have.
Not that you were particularly eager to.
It was nice, if only for a moment, to imagine this was your everyday life.
Sanji drew in a slow breath, catching traces of your shampoo and sweet perfume before unconsciously pulling you even closer. His fingers brushed lightly against the exposed skin of your waist where your nightgown had ridden up, sending a shiver through you. You twitched instinctively, and your cook immediately lowered his hand.
A quiet apology rumbled from his chest.
The two of you remained like that for a while, suspended in a sleepy sort of bliss, until he finally gathered enough sense to murmur:
“Is this alright, my dear?”
He was already prepared to untangle the two of you completely and put some distance between you when, to both your surprise and his, you only burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck.
“It’s too early,” you mumbled. “Go back to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
A scene that would have been unimaginable only a few days ago.
Sanji gazed down at your closed eyes and peaceful figure with such tenderness that his chest ached. He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. Settling more comfortably against the pillows, he began absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm and shoulder with one hand while holding you close with the other, until he, too, drifted back to sleep.
By the time he opened his eyes again, your side of the bed was empty.
The balcony door stood slightly ajar, allowing a soft sea breeze to drift through the room.
Stretching, he climbed out of bed and made his way toward you, though not before improvising breakfast's most important ingredient, managing to make the two of you coffee with what little the suite had to offer.
He found you sitting on the balcony with your feet drawn up slightly, gazing out across the endless stretch of ocean.
“Good morning, my beloved.”
His voice was warm and slightly rough with sleep as he offered you a cup.
Making room for him, you watched as he pulled his chair closer and sat beside you.
Smiling, you returned the greeting and took a sip. A quiet sigh escaped you as you closed your eyes for a moment, and Sanji’s heart immediately decided this was how every morning of his life ought to begin.
“It’s so peaceful,” you said, watching the waves.
“I could get used to this.”
A faint smile touched your lips, though there was something wistful about it.
“Still… as impossible and loud as they are, I miss our crew.”
Sanji laughed softly.
Partly in agreement.
Only partly.
One day, after everything was over, he hoped to steal you away on an adventure of your own.
“We’ll see if you’re still saying that in a few days when you’re diving into the ocean after Luffy because he decided to chase some flying beetle he found fascinating.”
You bit the inside of your cheek in a futile attempt to suppress your laughter.
It didn’t work.
Sanji’s heart promptly grew three sizes.
“Alright,” you admitted. “That definitely.”
Eventually it was time to get ready for breakfast, and so you and the curly-browed cook found yourselves sharing the resort’s absurdly spacious bathroom.
You were already dressed and nearly finished getting ready, currently applying the last touches of makeup while trying to decide which jewelry suited today’s dress best.
Your fake fiancé watched from the sidelines with sparkling eyes, utterly fascinated by these small rituals of yours.
While rummaging through your jewelry case, you frowned.
“I swear I took the other earring out already…”
Without a word, Sanji gently dropped it into your palm.
“Looking for this, my dear? It was beside your toiletry bag. It must’ve slipped underneath.”
You blinked.
“Thank you.”
His smile softened immediately.
Sharing one bathroom should not have felt this domestic.
And yet somehow it did.
Later, while you were curling your hair, Sanji insisted he could help.
“You won’t be able to reach the back properly.”
Before you could argue, he was already carefully separating strands of your hair and wrapping them around the heated iron, taking exaggerated care not to burn you.
“You have such soft, silky hair, Y/N-swan,” he murmured, moving from one lock to the next, completely enchanted by the closeness. “I could do this every da—AAH!”
Naturally, he burned himself.
Even while jerking back, he made a heroic effort to keep the curling iron far away from your neck.
“The MOST IMPORTANT THING A COOK HAS, my delicate hands!” he lamented dramatically.
You looked at him with immediate concern, but after examining the situation and realizing it was, as expected, considerably less severe than his reaction suggested, you gently took hold of his wrist and guided him toward the sink.
Turning on the cold water, you held his finger beneath the stream.
Sanji forgot how to breathe.
“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” you muttered.
Meanwhile, Sanji was busy berating himself for overreacting.
While you searched through your cosmetics bag for burn ointment and carefully applied it before placing a bandage over the spot, his thoughts galloped off in directions that were entirely unhelpful.
Directions that involved scenes like this repeating themselves years from now.
Far more often than they had any right to.
“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’d willingly put both hands into a fire if it meant I could spend half an hour running them through your hair.”
You stared at him in confusion for a moment before trying not to laugh.
Instead, a snort escaped you.
“I see you’re not lacking in dramatic flair,” you teased.
“Never,” he grinned and then added, with surprising sincerity:
“But I mean that one.”
You held his gaze for a silent moment before reaching up without a word to straighten the collar of his shirt and adjust his tie.
“Since a wounded man such as yourself is clearly no longer capable of doing it alone”
Your fingers moved deftly, straightening the knot and settling it perfectly into place.
“Besides, your finger’s covered in ointment.”
Sanji very nearly started purring from the intimacy of the moment.
Standing this close to him, focused entirely on fixing his appearance, felt dangerously easy.
He silently swore that he would never wear another tie again unless you were the one adjusting it around his neck with such quiet care and attention, standing close enough that he could feel your warmth.
Since you'd arrived a little late for breakfast, you were invited to join a table occupied by several older couples, all of them comfortably past the age of either of you.
Ever the gentleman he had been born to be, Sanji escorted you to your seat and pulled out your chair, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he helped you sit before taking the place beside you.
Trapped in endless small talk and snobbish fascination with gossip about other couples neither of you cared about in the slightest, you found yourself with little appetite.
Being watched so closely made you uncomfortable, and instead of eating, you merely picked at your breakfast.
Naturally, your fake future husband noticed immediately.
After carefully selecting a slice of prosciutto and ricotta and placing them atop a piece of toast, he cut off a bite-sized piece and held out the fork toward you.
“Here you are, my love. I can’t bear the thought of you going hungry.”
He looked at you with such attentiveness and affection that your heart skipped.
And somehow, despite the absurdity of trying to make you feel less self-conscious by drawing even more attention to you through pet names and hand-feeding, you found yourself loving him a little more for it.
Perhaps it was because, in Sanji’s eyes, you belonged at the center of every room.
It seemed as natural to him as sunflowers turning toward the sun no matter where it stood in the sky.
The way he always turned toward you.
Every eye at the table was now fixed on you as you blushed fiercely and obediently accepted the bite, chewing while staring determinedly at your plate and taking a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice to soothe your suddenly dry throat.
All the while, Sanji watched you unabashedly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before taking your left hand and brushing his lips softly across your knuckles.
“How adorable they are, don’t you think, Jacqueline?”
“A truly beautiful couple!”
An older woman adorned with pearls the size of apples and enough bright red lipstick for an entire theater troupe leaned toward you, immediately joined by the rest of the table.
"So," she asked brightly, "how long have you two been engaged?"
“I only gathered the courage to ask her the fateful question three months ago, on the anniversary of our relationship,” Sanji improvised effortlessly, already several chapters deep into a story that existed nowhere but in his head. “Though I bought the ring after only two weeks.”
He lowered another kiss to your hand.
“I knew she was the one for me.”
Several pairs of eyes immediately dropped to your left hand.
A collective gasp swept around the table.
“But where is the ring?!”
You grabbed Sanji’s arm and buried your face against his bicep.
“I’m sorry, darling! Just remembering it breaks my heart!” You dabbed at entirely imaginary tears. “My beloved gave me the most beautiful ring imaginable, but I…”
Everyone leaned closer.
“…I lost it on the beach we visited a month ago.”
Horrified gasps erupted from every direction.
“My darling,” Sanji said softly, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, “please don’t upset yourself. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”
He took your hand firmly and pressed a kiss into your palm.
“I’ve already hired people who claim they can find it. Besides…”
His gaze never left yours.
“I’ll buy you as many rings as necessary. You’re the only irreplaceable thing.”
The table practically melted.
As the conversation continued, you answered question after question, some silly, some surprisingly personal, yet somehow always arriving at the same answers without needing to think about it.
As though it had stopped being improvisation a long time ago.
Which, in truth, it had.
The older couples laughed when you both answered simultaneously to questions about who cooked more often, who was more likely to plan romantic dates, who apologized first after an argument, and who took longer to get ready in the morning.
“You’ve definitely been together long enough.”
The two of you merely exchanged a glance before breaking into matching laughter.
You really had.
The resort employee barely gave either of you a chance to protest before fastening bright wristbands around your wrists.
“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for our Lovers’ Lagoon Excursion. A complimentary glass-bottom boat tour for couples.”
The smile on your face froze. You pinched your “fiancé’s” arm, but he only lit up even more.
“…Oh,” you said weakly.
“How romantic!” the woman beamed. “The captain always reserves the front seats for newlyweds and soon-to-be-weds.”
“We’re not…”
“Thank you very much,” Sanji cut in with effortless grace, bowing just enough to preserve the illusion. “We’re honored. I can hardly wait to witness such breathtaking sights beside my beloved… assuming I’ll be able to see anything past her beauty.”
The employee clasped her hands together with a delighted sigh before hurrying off to greet the next unsuspecting couple.
You let out a long breath.
“…Wonderful.”
Sanji gently patted your shoulder.
“Come now. It’ll be nice.”
The boat drifted lazily across water so impossibly clear it scarcely looked real. Beneath the broad pane of glass stretching between the benches, schools of brilliantly colored tropical fish danced through coral gardens while graceful rays glided silently across the white sand below.
Around you, every other couple leaned close together, pointing excitedly beneath the boat or stopping to take photographs.
You and Sanji leaned together as well.
Just for entirely different reasons.
From this angle, the resort’s eastern shoreline lay in perfect view.
More importantly…
“Duchess of my heart and soul,” Sanji cooed loudly enough for the nearby tourists to hear, “look at that beautiful coral.”
You smiled shyly for the benefit of your audience, already resigned to his endless stream of pet names.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“But not nearly as gorgeous as you, my lovely queen.”
Without moving your lips, you murmured,
“Supply dock. Eleven o’clock.”
His gaze never visibly shifted.
“I see it.”
Beyond the decorative villas stood a modest concrete dock that hadn’t appeared on any of the guest maps. Two uniformed security guards watched the entrance while another pair stood beside a truck that had only just arrived.
Far too much security for towels and imported wine.
A forklift rolled forward carrying a long wooden crate wrapped in thick black plastic.
No company logos. No shipping labels.
Only a serial number stenciled across one side.
Several resort managers appeared almost immediately, abandoning whatever they had been doing to oversee its arrival personally. One signed paperwork while another inspected the perimeter before motioning everyone closer.
“Interesting,” you breathed.
Sanji rested an elbow casually against the boat’s railing, every bit the lovestruck fiancé admiring the scenery. And under any other circumstances, he would have been.
But at that moment, his focus was entirely on the mission, both for the sake of the crew and for yours. More than anything, he wanted to prove himself worthy of your trust. The kind of steadfast, capable knight who would never allow harm to come to you.
“Count them.”
“Four guards.”
“Five.”
You blinked.
A man dressed in the resort’s white linen uniform stood farther back, pretending to smoke while never taking his eyes off the crate.
The crate disappeared through a reinforced service entrance carved directly into the cliffs behind the dock.
The heavy doors sealed shut almost immediately afterward.
“…That’s excessive,” you muttered.
“For supplies?” Sanji agreed quietly. “Very.”
Neither of you spoke for several long moments.
It wasn’t proof.
Not yet.
But it was another collection of tiny details, each one slipping neatly into place, slowly completing the puzzle that lay at the heart of your mission.
The captain cheerfully announced that you were approaching the island’s most spectacular coral reef.
Around you, delighted couples leaned over the glass, marveling at the vibrant sea life below.
You reached for Sanji’s hand, sending such a violent flutter through his heart that he had to fight to keep it from showing on his face.
To anyone watching, it looked like nothing more than a tender gesture between devoted lovers.
Instead, your fingers pressed twice against his palm as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.
We come back tonight.
His thumb brushed once across your knuckles in answer.
Agreed.
After what had seemed to you like an exhausting lovers’ excursion, though in truth it had been rather enjoyable thanks in no small part to your so-called fiancé, the two of you found yourselves about fifteen minutes away from the resort when Sanji noticed a narrow path leading down toward a beautiful stretch of beach, quieter and far less crowded than the others.
“Look, my love,” he said, gently taking your hand and nodding toward the little trail.
“We’ve still got some time,” he added, looking at you with those warm, hopeful eyes of his. The very same eyes that had always filled you with a quiet sense of safety whenever they found you during one of the countless dangerous situations your crew stumbled into, or during the quieter moments, when your own thoughts became your greatest enemy.
You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from him, pretending to examine the path instead.
“Trying to play hooky, darling?”
He grinned, and that endlessly beloved curled eyebrow of his arched.
“All I’m saying, my dearest, is that it would be a terrible shame to travel all this way only to spend our time investigating kitchens and wealthy old snobs.”
His eyes never left you, captivated by the way the breeze toyed with loose strands of your hair. “Besides, the greatest tragedy of all would be for this shoreline never to be blessed by your beauty. You deserve the chance to enjoy the sunshine and the sound of the waves without having to worry about Luffy catapulting himself into you at any given moment.”
You pretended to consider it, though in reality you were already longing to be alone with him, free from the watchful eyes of staff members, pretentious guests, and the constant expectation that you keep acting out a role you secretly wished were real.
“Let’s go,” you agreed. “I’m going to lose my mind if another ambush drags us into yet another painfully awkward ‘romantic adventure’ with dozens of other couples.”
A tranquil panorama of turquoise sea unfolded before you, and the empty shore, blissfully free of lurking waiters or overeager resort employees, filled you with an indescribable sense of peace.
Just the gentle rhythm of the waves, the warm sand beneath your feet…
…and your fake fiancé.
Deciding to make the most of the beautiful scenery before you, you slipped off your sandals, gathered your dress above your knees, and wandered slowly across the warm sand toward the shallow water.
Sanji soon joined you, relieving you of your sandals under the pretense that he’d carry them so you could simply enjoy yourself without worrying about anything else.
You stepped into the water until it reached your ankles, cool enough to make you draw in a sharp breath and let out a tiny startled sound.
He couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips.
You were simply too adorable.
Catching him from the corner of your eye, you flicked a playful splash of water his way.
He stared at you in exaggerated disbelief.
“Just one moment, my dear.”
To your confusion, he hurried back onto the beach instead of retaliating. He carefully placed both his shoes and your sandals together on the sand before draping his jacket neatly over them to keep them out of the sun. Only then did he return.
“I could’ve just tossed them aside,” he said with a smile, “but I’d never treat your lovely things so carelessly, Y/N-swan.”
Then he gently splashed you back.
A soft gasp escaped you before you waded forward as gracefully as one could through knee-deep water—which wasn’t particularly graceful at all—and sent a much larger splash flying in his direction before darting away.
The Straw Hat cook laughed and gave chase, sweeping his arm through the water with enough force that the spray drenched not only you but the upper half of your dress and even your hair. You squeezed one eye shut, trying desperately to keep the saltwater out of it.
“Sanji!” you cried.
He froze.
“My sweetest darling, how horribly clumsy of me!” he exclaimed, immediately launching into an avalanche of apologies. “Absolutely inexcusable! You simply must forgive me. I never intended for my uncivilized, caveman-like behavior to offend such a lovely and noble lady as yourself…”
Completely swept away by his own dramatic speech and looking seconds away from genuine tears, the blond cook was abruptly interrupted when you retaliated with a spectacular splash that soaked him from his trousers all the way to the damp blond bangs now plastered over both eyes.
Silence lingered for exactly one heartbeat.
Then, laughing, he caught your wrist and gently drew you closer.
“My love,” he said between chuckles, “I had no idea you were such a little minx. You truly frightened me.”
Still laughing, he retaliated with several gentle splashes of his own.
“As ungentlemanly as it may be, I’ll claim at least the smallest measure of revenge.”
He tried stepping back to avoid your next attack, but because he was still holding your wrist, he accidentally pulled you toward him. Instinctively, he caught you before you could stumble into the water, leaving you pressed against his soaked chest instead.
For a single suspended moment, neither of you breathed.
You could feel each other’s hearts racing, frantic against your chests like woodpeckers determined to hammer straight through your ribs until they traded places.
Your eyes met.
The afternoon sun wrapped a golden halo around him, deepening the impossible blue of Sanji’s eyes and illuminating the quiet kindness that had always lived inside them.
For one impossible instant, you thought you’d never seen him look more beautiful.
The sight left you utterly frozen, and the only thing sparing you from complete embarrassment was the fact that he seemed every bit as captivated by you.
Perhaps even more.
He noticed nothing except your long eyelashes, the softness of your hair as the sea breeze carried one stray strand across your face, hiding part of one eye.
Almost unconsciously, Sanji lifted a hand and, with infinite care, tucked the strand gently behind your ear, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek and the curve of your jaw.
Your heart leapt yet again, somehow finding room to race even faster than before.
Meanwhile, he found himself staring at your slightly parted lips, still damp from seawater and from the way you’d been biting them between bursts of laughter.
In a desperate attempt to save yourself from what felt like an imminent heart attack, you suddenly splashed the right side of his chest and bolted forward.
Your laughter echoed across the empty beach as two hopelessly lovestruck grown children chased each other through the surf, their carefree shouts carried away by the wind.
When you finally stopped to catch your breath, both of you breathing a little harder from the running and laughing, you found yourselves gazing out over the deeper water shimmering beneath the late afternoon sun.
Sanji reached for your hand.
As though he’d read your thoughts, he raised one eyebrow and nodded toward the open sea.
“We’re already soaked anyway, my love.”
You looked at him, and for one dangerously tempting moment, you nearly gave in.
The afternoon remained pleasantly warm, and the cool water would have been wonderful. Even the splashing had already done wonders.
Still, you hesitated.
“I’m not sure that’s a convincing enough argument,” you replied. “Besides… we didn’t bring swimsuits.”
“I fail to see how that’s stopping us.”
He paused before adding more gently, “Of course, my dear, we won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I only suggested it because it’s painfully obvious you’ve been dying to dive in. You’ve been looking at the horizon rather pleadingly for quite a while now.”
Touched by how effortlessly he’d read you, you still let out an indignant little huff.
“I never look pleadingly at anything.”
Five minutes later, the two of you were swimming toward deeper water.
You’d quickly left your clothes folded on the shore so you could move more freely, and Sanji had kept his back turned the entire time while you changed, despite the fact that there was hardly any difference between your underwear and a swimsuit. If anything, depending on the design, some underwear was arguably less revealing.
Besides, after everything you’d been through together, you’d already seen one another in every conceivable state.
Even so, out of respect for you, your fake future husband wanted to offer you every bit of privacy he possibly could.
As you swam farther from shore, sometimes splashing one another, sometimes racing, other times playfully brushing a hand against the other’s leg before insisting it had probably been some mysterious sea creature, you both found yourselves wishing this holiday would never end.
A quiet melancholy seeped into the cracks of your hearts, reminding you that this adventure had an inevitable ending…
…and that every beautiful moment between you was still, at least officially, nothing more than make-believe.
When you finally emerged from the water, utterly drenched after staying in until your skin had begun to wrinkle, you both collapsed onto the sand before you.
Perhaps not the wisest decision, considering how much you hated grains sticking to wet skin, but this wasn’t the time to be fussy.
Lying there side by side, gazing up at the endless sky, you slipped into one of those rare, beautiful silences where words truly felt unnecessary.
Closing your eyes, you basked in the warmth of the sun, content to let yourselves dry a little beneath its gentle rays.
Even with your eyes shut, a faint smile played across your lips.
Sanji watched you.
Again.
For what was surely not the first time, nor the last.
Completely captivated by a sight he could have watched forever, if only you would let him.
Knowing there wasn’t enough sunlight left for either of you to dry completely, you eventually decided that “mostly dry” would have to do and began brushing the sand from your legs.
“Hey there, little troublemaker,” your “fiancé” laughed. “You don’t have to shake all of it onto me.”
Then he noticed a spot you’d missed.
Without thinking, he reached down and gently brushed the remaining sand from your leg.
His hand froze for the briefest moment as he realized what he’d done.
“…Thank you,” you murmured shyly before standing.
Walking back toward your clothes side by side, your little fingers brushing together every now and then without either of you quite meaning them to, you noticed beautiful seashells scattered along the shoreline.
You bent down several times to pick up the ones you liked most before continuing on.
A few moments later, once you’d reached your things, Sanji draped his jacket over your still-damp dress, the only piece of clothing that had remained almost completely dry.
“It’s getting a little breezy now. Better this than catching cold, my love.”
He opened his palm to reveal several seashells.
They were even prettier than the ones you’d collected yourself.
“For your collection,” he said with a smile, slipping them into the front pocket of his jacket where it hung around your shoulders.
You immediately added your own shells beside them.
“Thank you, Sanji.”
Your smile lit up his entire world.
“That’s really sweet of you.”
Then, before you could overthink it, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Warmth rushed over the cook so suddenly that it spread all the way across the bridge of his nose, enough that anyone passing by might have assumed he’d simply spent too long in the afternoon sun.
At the insistence of your so-called future husband, the two of you climbed a small hill overlooking the beach.
It was close enough that you could easily wander back into the sea if you wished, yet far enough away to admire the coastline from an entirely different perspective while enjoying a conversation that seemed determined never to end, drifting effortlessly from one topic to the next.
One last quiet indulgence before returning to the resort.
By some miracle, only the occasional passerby wandered through your little sanctuary, never enough to disturb the peaceful corner you’d found for yourselves.
As Sanji recounted one of his adventures aboard the Baratie, back when he was still inexperienced and Zeff had only just begun teaching him to fight with his legs, an exceptionally beautiful tourist strolled past.
He smiled politely and dipped his head in greeting.
But he never interrupted his story.
The very next second, his eyes returned to you as though they had nowhere else they’d rather be.
You stared after the woman, waiting in silent disbelief.
Surely…
Surely there would be some kind of reaction.
But none ever came.
Instead, Sanji stood up and began demonstrating one of the kicks Zeff had taught him as a boy, using a nearby rock as his unfortunate volunteer.
The next interruption came when another beautiful young woman approached and shyly asked if he would mind taking a photograph of her by the sea.
“Of course.”
He took the picture, immediately handed the camera back, and politely offered to take another if she wasn’t satisfied with the first.
Then he returned without delay, sat back down beside you, and continued your conversation.
No shameless flirting.
No hearts in his eyes.
No dramatic declarations about the extraordinary honor of immortalizing such breathtaking beauty in a photograph.
Unable to let that pass without a comment, you nudged him playfully.
“You’re starting to slack off.”
“Hm?”
“Usually you’d have proposed marriage by now.”
He blinked, genuinely confused.
“…Would I?”
You laughed.
“Absolutely.”
He scratched the back of his neck.
“…I suppose my attention was elsewhere.”
The beach had grown quieter as afternoon drifted toward evening. The tide had crept farther inland, erasing the footprints the two of you had left behind barely an hour ago, while the sea, calm and endlessly blue, breathed against the shore in slow, rhythmic sighs.
You watched it in silence, absently turning a smooth seashell over between your fingers.
“I’ve been wondering something,” you said at last.
Sanji, who had been skipping flat stones across the water with steadily improving success, glanced back over his shoulder.
“Hm?”
“What do you think happens after?”
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
“After what?”
“After all of this. When Luffy becomes King of the Pirates, when you find the All Blue. When all of us finally achieve the dreams that set us on this long journey in the first place.”
You smiled, and for a moment only the waves answered your question.
Sanji came to sit beside you again, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked out across the water. A small smile touched his lips.
“I think…” He drew a slow breath, as though the answer surprised even him. “I’d like to build something that lasts.”
You turned toward him.
“A restaurant?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes never left the horizon.
“Nothing grand. Just a place where people know they’ll always find a good meal, no matter who they are or how much money they've got.” A quiet chuckle escaped him. “Somewhere Zeff would spend every day complaining I’m doing everything wrong while secretly praising me and stealing my food whenever he thinks I’m not looking.”
You laughed, the picture so vivid you could almost see it.
“I’d visit.”
“I should hope so.”
He looked at you then, warmth softening every line of his expression until it settled deep in your chest.
“I’d rather not imagine a future where you’re somewhere far away, beyond my reach… somewhere I could only admire you from a distance instead of enjoying your company.”
You looked back at him, quietly moved.
“I think…” Lowering your eyes, you traced slow circles in the sand with the tip of the shell. “My dream isn’t all that different. I don’t think I’d spend my life chasing the next great adventure. Knowing me, it’d probably find me anyway.” A faint smile curved your lips. “I’d want something steady. Something dependable.”
“Dependable?”
“A place where you don’t wake up wondering whether you’ll have to leave tomorrow.”
There was an old sadness woven gently into your smile.
“Somewhere safe. Somewhere you belong. Somewhere the people you love are waiting for you at the end of the day... and you know they’ll still be there the next morning.”
The sea carried your words away before either of you spoke again.
“I suppose that’s a rather ordinary dream.”
“No,” Sanji said softly, threading his fingers through yours.
“It’s mine too.”
When you looked at him, there was something impossibly gentle in his eyes.
“I think it’s the rarest dream of all.”
The corners of your mouth lifted before you could stop them.
“You do?”
“I do.”
His gaze drifted back to the horizon, where the sun had already begun its slow descent toward the sea.
“People spend their lives chasing extraordinary things.” His voice had grown quieter now, thoughtful in a way you rarely heard from him. “They cross oceans searching for treasure, glory, fame… and somehow forget that, in the end, what most of them really want is exactly what you just described.”
He smiled softly.
“A home.”
The word settled warmly between you.
“A place where you're accepted and loved unconditionally, exactly as you are.”
Neither of you noticed how naturally the conversation had become our dream instead of yours or his alone.
After a comfortable silence, you turned toward him with a small smile.
“You’ve been smiling a lot today.”
He looked almost surprised.
“So have you.”
“I have?”
“You have.” A quiet laugh escaped him. “You don’t usually seem this… light.”
Your eyes wandered back to the shimmering sea, where the waves sparkled beneath the lowering sun.
“I suppose none of this feels entirely real.”
“What doesn’t?”
You gestured toward the empty beach, the endless water stretching before you, the lazy hours that had slipped by unnoticed...
...your fingers still intertwined.
“…Us.”
For a long moment, he simply watched the waves.
Then, wearing a smile so small it seemed meant only for himself, he said,
“I used to imagine days like this.”
His thumb brushed absentmindedly across the back of your hand.
“But somehow they always felt unfinished. Like something essential was missing, and no matter how I pictured them, I could never quite reach the ending that made them whole.”
His eyes finally met yours.
“I think I forgot that even the simplest moments become extraordinary when they’re shared with the right person.”
Your fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the shell, while his thumb continued tracing lazy patterns across your palm.
Neither of you spoke after that.
There was nothing left to say that the sea hadn’t already understood.
After the sun’s golden rays began melting across the blue sky, slowly deepening into shades of amber and crimson, the two of you realized just how completely you’d lost track of time.
What had been meant as a brief escape had quietly become an entire afternoon filled with moments you both feared would one day exist only as memories.
The walk back was still wrapped in that same easy contentment, though now tinged with quiet melancholy as the perfect afternoon slowly drew to its close.
Sanji insisted on carrying both his shoes and yours, and had stubbornly taken your bag as well despite your repeated assurances that it was hardly heavy.
You couldn’t help watching him as he walked beside you barefoot, blond hair still tousled and damp with saltwater, his trousers only half rolled back down, his shirt rumpled and not quite buttoned properly anymore. The elegant shoulder bag looked almost absurd slung across his shoulder, while your heels and his own shoes balanced precariously from the fingers of one hand.
Somehow, the sight made your heart ache in the sweetest way.
Every glance at him sent another warm flutter through your chest, until the corners of your mouth refused to stay still.
The hotel soon came into view and with it came the return of reality.
But Sanji noticed something before either of you reached the entrance.
A service cart rolled away from the kitchens, disappearing along a narrow stone path no ordinary guest ever used.
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it.
Silver cloches gleamed beneath crisp white linen, bottles of wine rested in polished ice buckets, and a waiter pushed the cart with practiced composure.
Yet Sanji’s pace slowed almost imperceptibly.
“That’s dinner.”
You looked at him.
“For Villa Twelve?”
His eyes never left the cart.
“…Earlier than yesterday.”
In that instant, the beach, the laughter, the sea… everything vanished.
You were back on the mission.
After a brief exchange, you both came to the same conclusion.
Three days of careful observation had given you enough information to risk something bolder.
The atmosphere changed the moment you stepped beyond the resort’s public gardens.
The cheerful bustle faded behind you, replaced by a silence so complete that even your own footsteps suddenly felt intrusive.
This secluded wing had clearly been designed for guests who valued discretion above all else.
The pathways narrowed into winding stone corridors bordered by immaculate flowerbeds and towering hedges trimmed with almost obsessive precision, while elegant lanterns stood at measured intervals beneath old cypress trees, their glass panes already beginning to glow against the approaching dusk.
There were remarkably few guests.
Far more security.
Two guards stood at the entrance to the private lane, speaking quietly before one wandered toward the shoreline. Another strolled through the gardens with practiced indifference, casual enough that it took only a moment to realize he wasn’t wandering at all.
He was observing everything.
Sanji noticed it immediately.
Without appearing to look directly at anyone, his gaze drifted from one guard to the next, lingering only long enough to judge the rhythm of their patrols before moving on to the nearest exits, the balconies overlooking the gardens, the servants’ entrances concealed behind flowering vines, and the narrow footpaths leading back toward the main resort.
Watching him work was strangely mesmerizing.
Barely an hour ago he’d been laughing as the waves chased the two of you across the sand, earnestly insisting the oddly shaped shell in his pocket looked exactly like a rabbit.
Now every trace of that carefree afternoon had disappeared beneath quiet competence.
He moved with the same relaxed confidence as before, even pausing once to admire an orchid blooming beside the path, though you knew perfectly well it was only an excuse to slow your pace and observe without drawing attention.
It reminded you, not for the first time, that Sanji had always been far sharper than people gave him credit for.
The service cart eventually disappeared through a discreet entrance behind one of the largest villas.
Villa Twelve.
You remained outside the surrounding hedges, careful to keep enough distance that anyone glancing through the windows would see nothing more suspicious than another couple enjoying an evening stroll.
For several long moments…
Nothing happened.
Then voices drifted through the open French doors, carried by the evening breeze in broken fragments.
“…tomorrow…”
“…midnight…”
“…Dock Seven…”
“…bring the Eternal Pose…”
“…the buyer sails before dawn…”
The words alone were enough to quicken your pulse.
Another voice, lower this time, answered too quietly for either of you to distinguish before one final sentence floated through the silence.
“…no witnesses.”
You instinctively leaned forward.
Sanji’s eyes met yours.
The exchange lasted only a heartbeat, but the conclusion was immediate.
It wasn’t everything.
But it was enough to understand what was about to happen.
Yet one question still lingered.
Who was behind it?
Tilting your head almost imperceptibly toward the open window hidden between the stone walls, you silently suggested getting just a little closer.
Perhaps one more sentence would give you the name you were missing.
Sanji followed your gaze before giving the secluded garden one careful sweep.
“I’m not convinced that’s our smartest move,” he murmured.
“If we don’t, the name slips away.”
You were already moving before he could argue further.
With practiced agility, you climbed onto the low stone wall bordering the villa, steadying yourself with one hand while Sanji remained below, quietly keeping watch over the courtyard.
From there, the voices carried just a little more clearly, though still frustratingly incomplete. You strained to catch another sentence before it vanished beneath the rustling leaves.
It would have worked.
It almost did.
Only your feet were still damp from the sea.
The smooth stone offered far less grip than you’d expected.
Your footing slipped without warning.
The sudden loss of balance sent you pitching backward, barely managing to swallow your startled gasp.
You never reached the ground.
Strong arms caught you before gravity could.
The force drove Sanji back a step, his grip instinctively tightening around your waist as he steadied both of you against the wall.
But the damage had already been done.
Inside the villa every voice fell silent.
The conversation stopped so abruptly that the ringing quiet felt louder than the words themselves.
A heartbeat later came the scrape of chairs.
Then hurried footsteps.
“Someone’s out there.”
The French doors flew open.
Guards spilled into the gardens carrying lanterns, their lights sweeping methodically across the hedges, pathways, and flowerbeds.
There was no alarm.
No shouting.
Only the measured caution of men unwilling to ignore even the faintest disturbance.
Sanji didn’t hesitate.
One arm stayed firmly around your waist as he guided, almost carried, you toward a narrow recess hidden behind a thick stone partition, concealed from the garden by climbing ivy and carefully sculpted hedges.
The space was scarcely wide enough for two people.
It forced your bodies together.
Lantern light drifted slowly across the courtyard only a few yards away.
He shifted just enough to place himself fully between you and the opening, broad shoulders shielding you completely should anyone glance into the passageway.
His eyes never left the searching guards.
They were sharp, unwavering, though when they flickered toward you for the briefest instant, the determination in them softened into something infinitely gentler.
“We have what we need,” he breathed so quietly you almost felt the words instead of hearing them.
“Whatever we're still missing… it isn't worth risking you.”
Your heart stumbled.
Before you could answer, one of the guards changed direction.
The lantern beam swept across the hedge.
Closer.
You heard the steady crunch of boots against gravel, every footstep impossibly loud in the suffocating silence.
Then you caught the scent before you saw him.
Salt carried inland on the evening breeze, mingling with expensive cologne as the guard stopped scarcely a few feet away.
Instinctively, both of you pressed even deeper into the narrow hiding place until there seemed to be no space left between your bodies.
Your forehead rested against Sanji’s chest.
One hand clutched the front of his shirt.
His arm remained securely around your waist, holding you so firmly you scarcely dared breathe.
Beneath your cheek, his heartbeat was steady, strong, almost impossibly calm compared to the frantic rhythm pounding inside your own chest.
Seconds stretched into what felt like entire minutes.
The guard lingered, lantern raised, eyes sweeping slowly over the hedges before finally lowering the light with an irritated sigh.
“Must’ve been a cat.”
His footsteps gradually faded.
Neither of you moved.
Not immediately.
You stayed exactly where you were until the last glow of the lantern disappeared behind the villa and the muffled conversation resumed inside.
Only then did Sanji allow himself a slow breath.
Only then did you realize you’d been holding yours.
Several more minutes passed before either of you dared leave your hiding place.
Silently, you retraced your steps through the gardens, leaving Villa Twelve behind exactly as quietly as you’d come.
It wasn't until the familiar paths leading back toward the hotel opened before you that the tension finally begin to unravel.
Your pulse was still racing when an unexpected laugh escaped you.
Not because anything had been funny, but because the adrenaline had nowhere else to go.
“That was… entirely too close.”
Sanji let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before looking you over from head to toe, as though reassuring himself you were truly unharmed.
“Far too close, my dear.”
You lowered your eyes.
Embarrassment settled heavily in your stomach.
“I almost got us caught.”
He stopped so abruptly you had no choice but to stop with him.
“Almost.”
He took your hand as naturally as though he’d been doing it for years, his thumb tracing slow circles across your knuckles.
“But we still walked away with exactly what we needed, my love”
“I still compromised the mission.”
“You kept your head,” he said gently. “And we both got out.”
You shook your head.
“You were the one who got us out.”
A smile found its way back to his face, softer than the playful grin he’d worn only hours earlier on the beach.
“That’s exactly why we make such a good team.”
As he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your gaze caught something that made your own smile vanish almost instantly.
A thin crimson line crossed his palm.
You caught his hand before he could lower it.
“Sanji…”
He blinked.
Only then did he seem to notice the shallow cut.
It wasn’t deep, though fresh blood still welled slowly from where the rough edge of the stone wall had caught him while pulling you safely out of sight.
He gave a small shrug.
“I suppose I was in a hurry.”
You carefully wrapped your fingers around his hand, making sure not to reopen the wound.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
A fond smile softened your voice.
“Come on. Let’s get back to the room so I can patch this up properly.”
He didn’t argue.
Your hands remained intertwined all the way back through the hotel lobby, where you arrived windswept, slightly disheveled, and still carrying stubborn traces of sand from your afternoon by the sea.
Judging by the knowing smiles exchanged among the reception staff…
You looked every bit like a young couple returning from an impulsive seaside adventure.
Neither of you made any effort to correct them.
When you finally made it back to your room, you insisted that Sanji shower first.
He was practically glowing from the simple fact that you were fussing over him, and although he protested halfheartedly, there was no disguising how delighted he was by the attention.
While he was still drying his hair, he quickly slipped into the pajama bottoms before you walked into the bathroom to retrievie the first-aid kit from the shelf.
Gently taking his injured hand into yours once more, you examined the shallow cut with quiet concentration.
After carefully cleaning it with an antibiotic tincture, you wrapped his palm in a fresh bandage before finally letting go of his hand once you were satisfied with your work.
There was something almost unbearably intimate about the moment.
Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off you.
The thought that you were caring for him so tenderly had completely undone him.
He watched you with a smile so bright it could have rivaled the stars outside before admiring the neat bandage once you’d finished.
“Thank you, my wonderful Y/N-swan!”
He lifted your hand, pressing a grateful kiss against the back of it only moments after it had been tending to his injury.
“I’ll pack our things while you take a shower. I know you hate the feeling of salt on your skin, and you’ve probably been waiting for this all day.”
After lingering in the shower far longer than you meant to, wondering what tomorrow would mean for the two of you, you dried your hair, finished your evening skincare routine, and slipped into your nightgown before stepping out onto the balcony.
Tomorrow would most likely return everything to the way it had always been.
Back to the familiar and painful routine where all the affection you’d found yourself quietly cherishing these past few days would once again be divided equally between you, the women on the crew, and every beautiful stranger who happened to cross Sanji’s path.
Waiting for you outside was your wonderful fake fiancé, a steaming cup of your favorite tea already in his hands.
Somehow, while you’d been showering, he’d even managed to arrange dessert.
With unmistakable pride, he explained that he’d prepared it yesterday and convinced one of the cooks he’d befriended the night before to bring it up at just the right time.
“You’re unbelievable,” you said with a smile, savoring the sweet dessert as the cool evening breeze drifted across the terrace.
Above you stretched a sky scattered with countless stars, the kind that had always left you caught somewhere between awe at the vastness of the universe and an indescribable loneliness that seemed to accompany it.
“My love… something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
Sanji’s thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand as he searched your face with quiet concern.
Very little ever escaped his notice.
You met his eyes for only a moment before looking away again.
“It’s nothing,” you murmured. “I’m just tired.”
He nodded in queit understanding, though the small smile he offered carried a hint of sadness.
“Our little love mission ended far too quickly.”
He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.
“…It wasn’t enough.”
You looked at him, puzzled.
You’d fully expected that tomorrow morning he’d be twirling around the Sunny with tears streaming down his face as he proclaimed how much he’d missed Nami and Robin, probably propelled into the air by another spectacular nosebleed the instant he laid eyes on your beautiful crewmates again.
Perhaps he’d have enjoyed this hotel infinitely more if he’d been paired with one of them instead.
Perhaps he’d even have been happier.
And yet here he was, thanking you with the same sincerity he would have shown any woman, even one who’d tricked him into walking straight into the jaws of a Sea King.
Because that was simply who Sanji was.
He had never been capable of denying a woman a kind word, no matter who she was..
Not even someone like you.
“Yeah…” You smiled faintly. “It really was a surprisingly fun mission. Almost like a vacation.”
Your fingers tightened slightly around your teacup.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get sent here with one of the girls instead. You probably would’ve solved everything much faster, and then the two of you could’ve actually enjoyed the rest of your stay.”
His brows knitted together in immediate confusion.
“I don't agree with that in the slightest.”
He looked genuinely bewildered.
“And no one could’ve handled this mission better than you, Y/N-swan.”
You didn’t answer.
Instead, you quietly steered the conversation elsewhere.
“You’ve been surprisingly well-behaved these past few days.”
He smiled, though concern still lingered behind it.
“I suppose.”
“It must’ve been difficult.”
“Difficult?”
“Resisting the urge to compromise the mission by declaring your love to every beautiful woman in the hotel.” A tiny smile tugged at your lips. “Though, to be fair, most of them seemed to be taken.”
“No.”
“No asking anyone to marry you?”
“…No.”
Then, hoping to coax a smile from you, he added with unmistakable fondness,
“I’m already marrying you.”
You looked at him.
“…Why?”
He blinked.
“…Why?”
“Was it only because of the mission?” you asked quietly. “Or did a miracle happen and every woman here simply wasn't your type?”
Silence settled between you.
Then, with complete honesty and growing concern, he answered,
“What? No… Where is all this coming from?”
“You’ve always flirted,” you said, offering a small smile that never quite reached your eyes. “Even when the woman in question was trying to kill us, you could never help yourself.”
Your gaze drifted toward the stars.
“But these past few days…”
You swallowed.
“You stopped.”
You looked back at him.
“Or rather… You just acted the way ordinary people flirt.”
The words lingered between you.
Your conscience twisted painfully at the thought of hurting someone as kind—and as hopeless—as Sanji.
“It’s not your fault,” you added quietly. “This is entirely my own doing.”
You let out a slow breath.
“I just… couldn’t stop myself from wishing that everything you said to me… everything you did… every nickname… every compliment… every small kindness…”
Your voice faltered.
“Some part of me convinced itself they were genuine.”
You forced yourself to continue.
“That they were meant only for me.”
A lump rose painfully in your throat.
“Even though I know that’s simply who you are... I know none of it was supposed to mean anything.”
A small, broken smile crossed your lips.
“But no matter how many times I told myself that…”
You looked into his eyes.
“…I couldn’t make my heart believe it.”
The ocean breeze stirred the loose strands of blond hair that had fallen across Sanji’s forehead, but he made no move to brush them aside.
A cigarette rested between his fingers, little more than a habit at this point.
He had lit it minutes ago, yet it had burned almost untouched, thin ribbons of smoke dissolving into the night air while his attention remained fixed entirely on you.
An unbearable silence settled between you.
If someone had been standing close enough, perhaps they could’ve heard the quiet sound of Sanji’s heart breaking.
She truly believes she isn’t special to me.
The thought alone made him feel sick.
After everything he’d tried to show you over the past four days, after every careful gesture and every quiet effort to make you see yourself through his eyes, you still believed you were simply another woman he’d been kind to.
Somehow, he had led you to believe the exact opposite of the truth.
When, in reality, you were the most extraordinary person in the world to him.
The only one.
A sad, disbelieving smile tugged at his lips as he struggled to understand how such a painful misunderstanding had ever been allowed to grow between you.
“You really think I’ve spent all these years treating you the same as everyone else?”
You gave the smallest nod.
“I don’t know.”
A tired smile touched your lips.
“Usualy... You compliment beautiful women you meet. You make people laugh. You make complete strangers feel as though they’ve known you forever.”
His brows drew together almost imperceptibly.
“But sometimes I wonder if you even realize how effortlessly you do it.”
Your eyes locked with his.
“You make everyone feel special, Sanji...”
Your voice trembled.
“So how was I supposed to know that I was?”
You paused, feeling both lighter for finally speaking the words aloud and infinitely guiltier for the sorrow reflected in the beautiful blue eyes you’d grown to love so much.
“You look at people as though they matter,” you whispered. “And after years of watching that… I started wondering if the way you looked at me was simply another expression of the same kindness.”
The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
“So tell me, Sanji…”
You folded your arms, more to keep your hands from trembling than to shield yourself.
“How am I supposed to believe that what you’re saying now is any different?”
Your voice softened.
“How am I to know that, if someone else had been sent here with you instead of me…you wouldn’t have looked at her exactly the same way? Said the same things, smiled the same smile.”
You searched his face.
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
You laughed softly, though there wasn't an ounce of amusement in the sound.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’ve spent so many years making everyone around you feel special…”
Your eyes shimmered.
“…that I never knew whether I truly was.”
Something in his expression faltered.
Not dramatically.
His shoulders, which had remained stubbornly squared throughout the conversation, finally eased, as though he had at last understood what had been hurting you all along.
He crossed the small distance between you with slow, careful steps, moving gently enough that you could still have walked away had you wanted to.
He didn’t reach for your hand immediately.
Instead, he searched your face with a tenderness that made it painfully difficult to look anywhere else.
“So that’s what you’ve been hearing all this time,” he murmured, his voice heavy with quiet sorrow.
Your brow furrowed.
“When I tell another woman she’s beautiful…” he continued softly, “…you think I’m saying the same thing I’m trying to tell you.”
“Aren’t you?”
A faint, melancholy smile touched his lips before disappearing almost as quickly as it had come.
“No.”
The answer was so simple that it almost frustrated you.
“...No?”
“I flirt,” he admitted without shame. “I always have. I’ll try to rein it in a little more than I usually do…” A tiny, self-conscious smile flickered across his face. “Though I suspect there'll always be at least a little of it left.”
His gaze softened.
“It’s part of who I am, and I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise.”
His fingers twitched at his side before he finally gathered the courage to reach for your hand.
He held it as though it were made of glass.
As though he feared you might pull away at any moment.
Lifting it carefully, he rested your hand over his chest.
Beneath your palm, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“But flirting ends the moment I walk away.”
His thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles across your knuckles.
“What I feel for you follows me everywhere.”
Your breath caught.
“I can tell a stranger she’s beautiful because beauty deserves to be admired.”
His eyes never once left yours.
“Then she leaves, and I go on with my day.”
A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escaped him.
“But you…”
He shook his head, as though words had suddenly become inadequate.
“You stay.”
His fingers closed around yours just a little tighter.
Beneath your hand, his heartbeat quickened.
“You stay in my thoughts when I’m cooking because I wonder whether you’d enjoy what I’m making. You stay whenever I pass a bookstore because I catch myself thinking about which novel you’d disappear into for hours. I hear a joke and instinctively think, ‘She’d roll her eyes at that.’”
He smiled to himself.
“And whenever we’re apart, I can’t stop wondering whether you need help with something, even though I know perfectly well you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. It still eats at me that I can’t simply run to you if you ever needed me.”
The corners of his eyes softened.
“Every little thing about you is engraved somewhere in my heart. I know exactly how you take your coffee. I know how often you drink it and at what time of day.”
A smile warmed his face.
“I always find myself wandering back into the kitchen whenever there’s a storm because I know you can’t sleep, and sooner or later you’ll sneak in looking for something warm to drink… secretly hoping, though you’d never admit it, that someone might keep you company.”
He looked at you with indescribable affection.
“I know you pretend not to like people fussing over you because it embarrasses you, when in truth every little kindness fills your heart.”
“I know you always leave the last piece of food in case someone else wanted it... I know the difference between your real smile and the one you wear when you’re telling everyone you’re fine.”
His own voice had begun to waver.
“Do you really think I’d notice all of that about everyone?”
His now-empty hand lingered near the ashtray, unconsciously searching for the cigarette he’d forgotten moments ago before falling still again.
Your eyes burned with tears.
“So when we were separated during the investigation…”
He gave a small, breathless laugh.
“I wasn’t wondering whether the receptionist smiled back at me.”
His gaze never left yours.
“I was wondering whether you’d remembered to eat lunch.”
He stepped a little closer, leaving barely enough space for the evening breeze to pass between you.
“If Nami had been sent with me…”
You nodded.
“I would’ve protected her.”
“If Robin had been sent…”
Another nod.
“I would’ve protected her too.”
“If it had been Vivi… Rebecca… any woman in this world…”
He smiled sadly.
“I would’ve complimented them. I would’ve played the devoted fiancé because that’s what the mission required.”
His voice dropped to little more than a whisper.
“But every night, when we came back to that room…”
You had never seen him look so vulnerable.
“…I would’ve been counting the days until it was over.”
Silence settled gently between you as his thumb continued its slow circles over your hand.
“But with you…”
The smallest smile appeared.
“I kept wishing we’d been given one more day.”
He let out a quiet laugh.
“Pretending you were mine…”
His eyes shimmered.
“…made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
His gaze searched yours, stripped of every trace of theatrical charm.
“You can doubt my judgment.”
A rueful smile tugged at his lips.
“God knows I’ve given you enough reasons to.”
“You can doubt my timing...”
He looked down for a moment.
“I’ve waited far too long to tell you any of this. I should’ve found the courage years ago instead of foolishly hoping you’d somehow notice on your own.”
He drew a slow, unsteady breath.
“But don’t ever convince yourself that what I feel for you is the same as the compliments I scatter to the wind.”
Almost hesitantly, he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The gentleness of the gesture made your chest ache.
“You may doubt the stars if you wish. Doubt the sea beneath our feet. Doubt every foolish promise I’ve ever made...”
He rested his forehead lightly against yours.
“But never doubt this.”
His voice was scarcely louder than the breeze.
“I love you.”
He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment before smiling, almost in disbelief.
“And if these last four days have taught me anything… it’s that once pretending stopped feeling like pretending… there wasn’t another person in this world I wanted beside me but you.”
He swallowed.
“I’d choose you.”
A faint, almost embarrassed smile.
“Tomorrow. The day after. For as long as you’d let me.”
Tears streamed freely down both your faces.
You had never imagined happiness could hurt this much.
You wanted to answer him.
You wanted to tell him everything.
Instead, all that escaped your lips was a trembling whisper.
“Sanji…”
“Yes, my love?” he answered immediately. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve told you sooner. I just—”
Unable to bear the distance between you for another heartbeat, you silenced him the only way you knew how.
You rose onto your toes and gently pressed your lips against those of the man who, by now, you could finally call your boyfriend.
For a heartbeat, the world stood perfectly still.
Sanji remained utterly frozen. Not because he didn’t know what to do.
But because after years of quietly loving you, after days spent pretending this moment belonged to him, his happiest dream had become real so suddenly that his heart needed a second to believe it.
Before you could pull away, his hands found your waist with infinite care, as though you were something precious entrusted to him rather than something he dared claim as his own.
He pulled you just a little closer.
The kiss lingered.
Soft. Unhurried. Tender beyond words.
He kissed you with astonishing patience, as though hurrying even a single heartbeat might somehow wake him from the happiest dream he had ever known.
It felt as though every tightly folded corner of your heart, kept closed for years by fear and uncertainty, slowly unfurled beneath the warmth of his lips until there was nothing left to protect.
Nothing left to doubt.
You bloomed before him as naturally as a flower turning toward the first light of spring, and in that quiet moment you understood, with breathtaking certainty, that this was what home had always been meant to feel like.
Eventually, the night drew to a close.
A night the two of you would remember for the rest of your lives.
One you would return to again and again, years from now, with the same fond smiles and quiet certainty that, somehow, everything had begun here.
Your cheeks ached from smiling.
Happiness coursed through your veins with an almost dizzying intensity, leaving you restless, exhilarated, completely unsure what to do with yourself.
You had never been happier.
Judging by the way Sanji looked at you, neither had he.
“…May I?”
You smiled, gently running your fingertips over the soft stubble that framed his jaw.
“…Please.”
His arms slipped around your waist once more, drawing you against him as though he were still afraid you might disappear if he let go.
You nestled closer without a second thought, both of you smiling like hopeless fools.
Another kiss found you.
Slow and unrushed.
This time you let your fingers wander higher, tracing the graceful arch of one of his eyebrows with featherlight touches.
When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, your lips pleasantly swollen from an evening spent stealing kisses, you shifted just enough to look down at him.
Then, to his complete surprise, you leaned forward and pressed the gentlest kiss against one curly eyebrow.
Then the other.
Sanji’s entire face turned scarlet.
He actually moved his fringe aside with embarrassed haste to make it easier for you to reach the second one, his heart threatening to beat straight out of his chest.
“My love…” he whispered, barely able to form the words.
His fingertips drifted lazily over the small of your back before your lips found each other once more.
The kisses came easily now.
Some impossibly gentle, little more than lingering brushes of affection.
Others filled with years of quiet longing finally given permission to exist.
Every now and then one of you would begin to smile halfway through, forcing you apart with breathless laughter before inevitably drawing you together again.
Your foreheads remained resting against one another, your breaths mingling in the quiet room while a gentle summer rain began tapping softly against the balcony doors.
Sanji smiled again.
Not the dazzling smile he offered strangers.
Not the hopelessly lovestruck grin that accompanied his theatrical compliments.
Something quieter and smaller.
Infinitely more precious.
The smile of a man who had finally stopped dreaming.
By breakfast, the difference was impossible to miss.
Oblivious to everyone except each other, the two of you sat at the table stealing glances every few seconds.
Whenever you reached for something, Sanji was somehow already there, carefully choosing your favorite foods before absentmindedly lifting your hand to place a light kiss against your fingers.
You talked and laughed.
The rest of the dining room might as well not have existed.
You had come to this hotel searching for an Eternal Pose.
Instead, you’d found something infinitely more valuable.
Something neither of you had expected.
Something that might never have had the chance to grow had you not been separated from your wonderfully chaotic crew.
Robin had already contacted you through the Den Den Mushi.
Before evening, the two of you would reunite with the Thousand Sunny before setting out to recover the Eternal Pose.
“Lovebirds!”
One of the elderly ladies from the neighboring table waved enthusiastically.
“You’re even more smitten than when you first arrived. That room of yours must be magical! Richard and I shall request it next time.”
Sanji only smiled, keeping your hand firmly in his.
“We’re simply making the most of our last few peaceful hours together before duty steals us away for a little while.”
And we don’t need anyone else.
Slightly disappointed that she hadn’t lured you back into another afternoon of gossip, the woman eventually returned to her husband.
Once she was gone, Sanji reached into his pocket and carefully slipped something between your joined hands.
It was the photo the hotel photographer had taken a few days earlier.
The one your then-fake fiancé had accepted with such ridiculous enthusiasm.
You couldn’t help smiling.
His grin in the picture was wonderfully carefree, while your own face wore the unmistakable blush of someone trying very hard not to admit how happy she was.
“I’m going to frame it.”
He looked almost dreamily at the photograph.
“We’ll keep it in our room once Franky builds us one.”
Then his eyes widened.
“That is…”
He immediately scratched the back of his neck.
“If… if that’s something you’d ever want.”
You laughed softly before kissing his cheek.
“Thank you.”
Sanji practically melted.
Then, with unmistakable excitement, he placed a small velvet box into your hands.
“Until then…”
He closed your fingers around it.
“…you’ll have this.”
You opened it.
Inside rested a delicate necklace with a tiny locket.
When you gently unclasped it, you found a miniature copy of the very same photograph tucked safely inside.
Your eyes lit up.
Throwing your arms around his neck, you peppered his cheeks with delighted kisses until he looked seconds away from fainting.
“It’s beautiful! When did you even manage to do this?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I slipped out the night before last while you were asleep and found a jeweler just before he closed. I asked if he could make it for me.”
A bashful smile spread across his face.
“I picked it up later while we were apart.”
Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket.
“And this one’s mine.”
He revealed an elegant pocket watch.
Inside was the same tiny photograph.
You stared at him.
“…How did you know?”
How did you know we’d end up here?
His smile softened.
“I didn’t.”
A quiet pause.
“But I hoped.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I thought… that maybe one day I’d finally find the courage to give it to you.”
A tiny laugh escaped him.
“Even if you threw it back at me.”
You couldn’t stop smiling.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Every ounce of your affection found its way into another gentle kiss.
The sounds of your crew reached the harbor long before the Thousand Sunny came into view.
As soon as Sanji helped you aboard, Luffy launched himself across the deck, chanting “FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!” like a sacred prayer, while Usopp and Chopper enthusiastically joined in.
“WOULD YOU THREE CALM DOWN UNTIL WE’VE LEFT THE HARBOR, YOU UNCIVILIZED APES?!”
Sanji barked, kicking the deck beside them.
Not one of them noticed.
For the first time that day, he reached for a cigarette.
These idiots really do bring out the worst in me.
While you hugged Nami and Robin, eagerly recounting everything you’d seen on the island, Sanji watched you from across the deck with unmistakable affection.
After stubbing out his cigarette, he wandered over.
“Ladies,” he greeted warmly, kissing each of their hands. “It’s always wonderful to see you.”
Then, almost absentmindedly, his fingers found yours.
He intertwined them naturally before lifting your hand to his lips for the briefest kiss.
“I’ll go prepare something refreshing for the Straw Hats’ princesses.”
The deck fell strangely quiet.
Nami slowly raised an eyebrow.
Robin smiled knowingly.
“…Finally.”
She chuckled.
“We should’ve sent you two on a mission together years ago if this was all it took.”
Usopp’s jaw hit the deck.
“THEY'RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER?!”
Chopper burst into delighted tears.
“I KNEW THEY'D FIGURE IT OUT!”
Luffy looked up from the loaf of bread he’d already stolen from the kitchen.
“Huh?”
He blinked.
“Weren’t they already?”
As the Sunny sailed toward its next adventure, leaving the suspiciously cupid-infested hotel behind, you and Sanji stood side by side at the railing.
He rested his chin lightly atop your head while both of you watched the horizon.
“So…”
His voice was quiet.
“Still willing to go on adventures with me, my love?”
Smiling, you answered the only way that felt right.
With a kiss.
The first of countless more to come.
To every adventure that awaited you.
And, someday, to the greatest one of all.
From the other side of the deck, Nami sighed dramatically.
“I’m beginning to think we may regret opening their eyes.”
Robin laughed softly.
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Nami groaned. “She’ll sigh over him even more than before, and he’ll become completely impossible.”
Robin watched the two of you for another moment, her smile impossibly fond.
“I don’t know. I think they’re adorable.”
Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! 🩷 I hope you enjoyed the conclusion as much as I enjoyed writing it. And thank you again for all the love you showed Part 1. It truly means the world to me!
Tagging those who asked to be notified 🌸: @im-so-tired-sorry @starinthesky-writes @peachycat17 @shewhodabbles @imastorytelleritsondvd
Fluff | Established Relationship | Modern AU | Sanji is quite hopelessly devoted to you and needs to hear your name all day.
Sanji runs a kitchen like a symphony.
Precise. Elegant. Controlled.
That is, until you walk in.
Then, it's chaos.
"...she's here."
Every line cook braces themselves.
Because suddenly—
He's fixing his collar.
Adjusting his hair.
Lighting a cigarette he will forget to smoke.
"Table for one?" the host asks.
"No," Sanji says immediately. "Table for her."
You're seated at the best table in the restaurant.
The menu is handed to you and that's when you notice it.
"...why is there a dish named after me?" You mumble to yourself.
Your boyfriend appears beside you like his life depended on it.
"The question is, why wouldn't I name a dish after you, my love?"
"...there are three."
"Working on a fourth." He admits without shame.
You stare at him. You always knew how obsessed he acts around you, but isn't that a little extreme?
"...you named menu items after me?"
Sanji places a plate in front of you.
Careful. Reverent. Like it matters more than anything else.
"...I needed the kitchen to say your name more often." He confesses, looking into your eyes, pink slightly shading his cheekbones.
You almost choke on your own breath. "...you're insane," you say but there's no bite to it.
"...creative." He corrects.
From the pass— "ORDER UP, Y/N SPECIAL!"
The entire kitchen echoes it.
You cover your face with the white cloth from your lap, but definitely laughing.
"This is ridiculous."
"Only for you, sweetheart."
After your meal, Sanji himself comes to pick up the empty plate.
"You should name the next one," he says, taking a seat at your table.
"Why? You're the chef."
He leans in slightly. "...so every time someone orders it," he murmurs, "I think of you choosing it."
You look into his eyes again. Shaking your head in disbelief.
"You're obsessed."
He smiles at your words. Soft. Unashamed. "...completely."
Sanji takes your hand into his, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, never taking his eyes off you.
♡ short but surely delectable ♡
♡ more stories and devotion from them ➺ masterlist
Being the baker of the Straw Hat crew means that you have to bake a lot, especially with Luffy’s big appetite. You work alongside Sanji, the cook. The two of you collaborate to prepare the meals and desserts, making sure that they complement each other. Which leads you to where you are now. In the kitchen, prepping late at night with the ship’s cook right beside you. The room holds comfortable silence, with the occasional clatter of utensils and other things.
You were deep in thought as you stirred ingredients together in a pot. Feeling something on your face, you wiped your cheek with the back of your hand before continuing the rest of your preparations. But it was quickly interrupted by Sanji.
“So, what are you making, love?” he asked while kneading pasta dough.
You give the cook a quick glance before returning your focus to the simmering pot. “I’m making raspberry jam for my vanilla pudding custard fresh fruit parfait.”
“Ooo…that would definitely complement my creamy marinara pasta with steak and vegetables.” Sanji enthusiastically replies, putting his dough in a bowl to rest.
You smile for a moment before saying, “Wait! That reminds me.”
Intrigued by your reaction, Sanji watches as you turn down the stove and quickly move towards the fridge to take out the bowl of set custard.
Turning back to the kitchen island next to Sanji, you grab a small spoonful of custard.
“Here.” You bring the spoon of custard towards Sanji’s mouth.
Sanji takes the bite and briefly closes his eyes. “Hmmm…That’s really good.” He points at the bowl of custard, “I think that’s going to be my new favorite dessert.”
You playfully roll your eyes at him and smile, as a small blush creeps on your face.
“It’s just the custard. I haven’t assembled it all together yet.”
Sanji gives you a pointed look. “I’m being serious. You know a cook never lies. You’ve got a real talent, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” you reply, with a soft smile on your lips.
Sanji nods before moving his attention towards the uncut vegetables. Falling back into comfortable silence, you return your attention to move the pot of jam to the side. Then you turn back to stare at the bowl of custard.
“You’re making that face again,” Sanji says, briefly glancing at you, then back to cutting.
“Hmmm…” You absentmindedly reply, turning your head toward the cook, scrunching your eyebrows.
“What face?”
Sanji points at your face, “That face. The one where you are very deep in thought about whether you're making the right thing or not.”
You scoff, “I don’t make a face.”
“You’re literally doing it right now,” Sanji says with a knowing smirk.
“I-I-Whatever,” you huff out air as you continue to do your overthinking expression.
Sanji stops cutting vegetables and moves close to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.
“It’s going to be perfect, Y/N. You’ve made the most exquisite custard that will complement the jam and fruit, making the best pairing that’s sooo delicious.”
You squint your eyes at him. You disliked how he understood you so well.
You giggle, shaking your head, “You’re just saying all of this because you want the recipe. I can’t have you be a great cook and baker. You’d steal my spot on this crew.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sanji says, winking.
“Well… getting the recipe, yes. But taking your spot? NEVER. There’s no greater baker than you.”
You shrug your shoulders, “You’re a pretty good cook.”
Sanji just laughs before staring into your eyes. Looking back, you couldn’t help but get lost in those ocean eyes. You weren’t worried about the dessert that much, but more about your growing feelings for Sanji. You would be the biggest liar to say you didn’t find him attractive, or that his very kind demeanor and personality weren't alluring.
Sanji’s voice snaps you back to reality.
“You got a bit of…” Sanji moves his hand toward your face, wiping the jam off your cheek.
You don’t say anything as he holds your face. You stare into his eyes for a quick moment before clearing your throat. You begin to feel warmth rise in your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the kitchen island.
“No problem, love,” Sanji replies with a loving and thoughtful look.
Wanting to get yourself out of your flustered state, you take a bit of custard on your finger and put it on Sanji’s nose. Caught off guard, Sanji scrunches his nose and smiles. You couldn’t help but laugh.
Sanji shook his head, “I’m gonna get you back for that.”
You quirk your eyebrow, “Oh, really?”
You gasp as Sanji throws a small handful of flour at you. You wipe your face and stare him down.
“Mhhmm…” he replies, with a big grin on his face.
“This means war,” you state.
Sanji tries to hold in a laugh before you get a small amount of flour, smudging it up to his upper lip.
“That’s what you get!” you say with a huge smile on your face.
He puffs out the flour. The two of you begin a little flour war. Sanji throws a small bit of flour, almost touching the custard on the kitchen island, before you move to block it.
“Not the custard!” You quickly grab the bowl and hold it close.
You stare at Sanji before you both burst into a small fight of laughter. You put the custard back in the fridge before turning back to Sanji.
Sanji grabs the towel off his shoulder and uses it to wipe your face.
“There,” he says softly, looking at you with admiration. He goes to wipe his face.
With a huff of laughter, you say, “Sorry about that. This might’ve been the messiest late-night prep.”
Sanji smirks, “There’s no need for sorries, love. Baking and cooking do get messy. It’s just in our nature.”
“Hmm, you’re not wrong. Though... this was kinda fun."
"It was a lot of fun," Sanji says truthfully.
Sanji takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. Your breath hitches as he leans towards your face, making it seem like he’s going to kiss your lips, but at the last second, he kisses your cheek.
Sparks fly when you feel his warm lips touch your cheek. Making you go into a daze.
Looking at you with fondness, he says, “I’m still a gentleman,” with a warm smile on his lips.
Snapping out of your daydream, you slap Sanji on the arm.
“Whatever,” you say with a big smile on your face.
“Don’t you still have food to prep? Or are you going to continue to distract me?”
Sanji just gives you a loving look.
“I do, but maybe I’m enthralled by all your beauty. Plus, I like being with you,” he says knowingly as he shrugs his shoulders.
You gently bump his shoulder. “I like being with you, too. But get back to work,” you reply, pointing at the things on his side of the kitchen island.
“Yes, chef!” He says, saluting with a wink. Moving to wash his hands before continuing his work.
Under the warm kitchen lighting, the space feels more comforting and inviting, after your announced feelings of love. Butterflies erupt in your stomachs as the two of you replay the tender moment. The lingering yearning between the both of you becomes so strong that you never want the night to end. The two of you steal glances here and there with the occasional chatter, leaving you and Sanji late-night prepping in the subtle moonlit room with the same thought:
He calls you things like “my love,” “my angel,” or “the most beautiful person on this sea.”Sometimes he gets so emotional he practically melts right in front of you.
Sanji loves showing love through food. If you casually mention liking a certain dish once, he’ll memorize it and make it perfectly for you.
Fresh coffee, warm pastries, and a sweet smile from him in the morning. If you try to help, he gently pushes you back under the blankets.
He’s very protective, especially if someone disrespects you. Expect him to step in immediately with a serious expression if someone crosses a line.
If you compliment him back, he might literally faint. The crew is used to this by now.
Sometimes while cooking he’ll grab your hand and spin you around the kitchen. Even if there’s music playing only in his head.
If someone flirts with you, he’ll get visibly annoyed. But instead of causing a scene, he’ll just pull you closer and remind everyone you’re taken.
He experiments with recipes, but you always get the first taste test.
Watching the ocean together while everyone else sleeps. These quieter moments are when he opens up the most.
Sanji believes the person he loves deserves the world and he’ll spend every day trying to give it to you.
Nami and Nico Robin find it amusing how soft he becomes around you. Meanwhile Roronoa Zoro never lets him live it down.
"i love you," they say - only to call you annoying the next second. "you’re so important to me…” - sure. only when they need something. other than that, your absence doesn’t really matter. "i like talking to you!” - yeah, that explains no response for 7 days straight.
people’s words are empty, nothing more than some sort of currency they use to buy another’s time and affection. they just get what they want and vanish away, leaving the other person hurt and broken to the point where they believe hiding in the safety of their bed for weeks if not months is the best thing to do.
rafayel keeps repeating it to himself, over and over again, as if reminding himself of the pain can help him hurt less.
never trust people. don’t get too close. they will just use you and hurt you. don’t do that to yourself - know better than to trust them ever again.
never trust people. they’re all the same.
….except for you.
you, who shows up in his studio in random moments just because you want to hang out with him. you, who teases him every time he can’t win the claw machine game but hugs him better in the end no matter what the result was. you, who is holding his hand during the walks on the seashore and looks at him like he’s your whole world, the centre of the universe and the only one you truly want.
and every time you do that… rafayel finally knows.
Summary: Something is bothering Sanji and you just want to help.
Notes: hurt/comfort, Sanji being sad
A/N: if you like this one you might like the Ace one i did which is pretty similar. also wanted to throw it out there that my comments, asks, and DMs are always open if you'd like to chat!!
this is mostly proofread, but mistakes may persist! thanks so much for reading!!
He was quiet, more so than normal. “I’m okay, love, really,” he would say when you asked if he was alright. "You're smile is the only thing I need,” was his answer to whether or not there was something you could do to help. You could tell, though. Something was bothering him and you felt useless to help. All you seemed able to do was stand by and offer support when you could (though he rarely accepted that he needed it) and a steady presence the rest of the time. The pit in your stomach grew every day as you searched and searched for something that could help, something you could do to see your lover smile, really smile again.
Sanji truly believed he was right: there was nothing you could do. The demons in his mind were his own, only he could face them, only he could escort them out or die trying. Why pull you into his mess? Why tempt the chance that you would never look at him the same? Why taint an angel with his darkness? A part of him knew it was selfish, to claim love while keeping one at a distance, but a much larger part had convinced himself he was saving you. ‘It is the gentlemanly thing to do,’ his mind declared.
He continued flirting, he kept cooking, he even found the energy to fight with Zoro, but you knew him better than anyone, better than he knew himself. You knew it was wearing him down, running his battery low and he was nearing empty.
You knew you would eventually run into him in the galley some night, so you kept staying awake hoping to hear some movement. Every night had been silent or you had been too deep into sleep, until tonight. Hearing the patter of feet heading past your door and toward the kitchen you softly got out of bed to follow, trying not to wake the others. A soft light came from the kitchen as you softly opened the door and entered. Across the room on the opposite side of the counter with his back turned to you stood Sanji. His shoulders were high and tense, smoke drifted from his fifteenth cigarette of the day (you had been counting), and you swore you could almost hear him sniffle.
“Sanji, are you okay? Did something happen?” You rushed across the room, stopping just at the edge of the counter. He still didn’t face you. “Sanji, please let me—.”
He tuned around to finally face you, puting on his widest, fakest smile. You hated that smile. “I’m fine love. I promise.” His puffy eyes betrayed him.
“Bullshit.” This was where you drew the line. You were done. You stood firm, tears of frustration coming to your eyes. “Sanji you are not fine. You barely get any sleep, you barely eat anymore, and I haven’t seen you laugh in weeks.” You stepped closer, rounding the corner to meet him on his side, attempting to appear strong and in control while the tears threatened to spill. “I—“ the words caught in your throat. “I can't keep watching you slowly disappear. I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t need to, but I do need you to trust me enough not to lie. I need you to let me in and stop pretending everything is okay when I know you are falling apart.” The tears were falling freely as you lowered your head to practically whisper your final plea, “please."
Sanji became paralyzed. No one had ever cared enough to see him, truly see him. No one had ever cared to want to help him so much that they brought themselves to tears. No one had ever wanted in, wanted to stay. He felt sick. He had brought you to tears, an act he promised would never come to. His hands began to shake as tears formed in his own eyes.
“I— I didn’t want— I didn’t know,” he couldn’t seem find the words, threads of thoughts crashing together and fighting for dominance over his tongue.
“I love you Sanji,” you spoke, trying to center him. You softly grabbed his cheeks. “I love you so much. Please, just let me in. Even if there’s nothing to fix, don’t suffer alone.”
Sanji crumbled. He pulled you in, tucked his head into your neck, and sobbed. It felt disgusting and cathartic. To cry on such a beautiful creature, but a creature who had wanted in, who voluntarily knocked at the doors to his hell.
His breathing was ragged as he attempted to speak, “I l-love y-y-you t-too.” He looked up to glance into your eyes, to check that you weren’t preparing to run away, that this wasn’t a cruel joke. “I j-just want-ted to protect you.”
“Protect me from what dear?” You asked confused and concerned.
“From… from me. From the mess in my mind. From the storm of my thoughts. From the nightmares. From the—“
“Sanji,” you grabbed his cheeks once more to ground him. “I want to see the mess. I want to ride the storm. I want to hear about the nightmares. I want to be there with you through all of it." You brought your hands down to grasp his own. "I might not be able to help but I can be there beside you, reminding you that for every messy thought is a sweet embrace. For every storm there is rainbow. For every nightmare there is a dream. For every bad day there is a good one.”
His eyes were wide as his brained worked overtime to compute what you were saying, what you're words meant. “I don’t know if— I don’t know how to do that.” Your face fell but he quickly finished his thought. “I don’t know how to do that, but I want to try, for you, with you.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“How— Where do we start?”
“How about you tell me what’s got you up so late while I make us some tea,” you gave him a soft smile.
“I think I can do that,” he smiled back. It was only a small smile, but it was real.
It would take time, it would take effort, but Sanji — with your support, patience, and love — would learn that demons need not be faced alone, that love can still exist when storms come around, and that he does not need to face the world alone.
not to be a whore but a hot messy makeout session with rafayel after he annoys you to the point you start yelling at him and pushing him and he has a stupid smirk on his face and you just kiss him and you’re knocking paint over and messing up a canvas but he doesn’t gaffffffff he’s right where he wants to be when you bunch his shirt up and bite his bottom lip
You’re mid-rant, hands flying, pacing across his studio while the faint smell of paint and turpentine clings to the air. He should be taking you seriously. He knows that. But instead…
That stupid, infuriating smirk.
“Are you done?” he hums, dragging his brush lazily across the canvas like you’re background noise. “Or are you working up to something more dramatic?”
You shove his shoulder. Hard. “Rafayel—!”
He barely budges. Just tilts his head, eyes flicking to you, amused.
“Oh, there it is,” he murmurs. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to...”
You kiss him.
It’s not soft. Not hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss that interrupts, cuts him off mid-sentence, steals the breath right out of his lungs. Your hands fist into his shirt, yanking him closer like you’re done arguing with words.
He goes still. Just for a second.
Then the brush drops.
Somewhere behind him, a jar tips, paint spilling, rolling off the table in a slow, inevitable disaster, but neither of you even glance at it.
Because now he’s kissing you back.
A low sound slips out of him, as his hands find your waist, pulling you in like he’s been waiting for you to snap like this. Like this was always the endgame.
“Cutie, there you are,” he breathes against your lips, voice rougher now, the teasing edge melting into something warmer, hungrier.
You tug his shirt tighter. Bite his bottom lip just enough to make him suck in a breath, and that’s when his composure really cracks.
The smirk comes back, but it’s different now. Messier. Dangerous.
“Careful,” he murmurs, leaning in again, forehead brushing yours. “You’re going to ruin my work.”
Another crash somewhere, probably more paint. Maybe the canvas.
He doesn’t even look.
His thumb hooks under your chin, tilting your face back toward his, eyes dark and entirely focused on you now.
“…Actually,” he adds, quieter, lips ghosting yours again, “I think I like this better.”
// Your hot messy makeout session with Rafayel. ❤️
thinking about rafayel spending all day hunched in front of a canvas with the utmost focus and refusing to take a break so i physically have to force him to,, what’s the best way to distract a man then by loving on him ?? so u don’t say anything, getting up from ur spot on the couch before straddling his hips and making urself at home on his lap.
Rafayel stares at you for a second, kisses the tip of your nose before focusing back on the painting.
“you need to take a break,” you mumble, your fingers moving to brush a purple strand of hair out of his face, letting your hands run through the soft locks.
“Im almost done,” he mumbles, not sparing a glance at you as you continue your ministrations in his hair. you narrow your eyes for a second, time for the big guns.
“please raf? just for a minute,” your voice is softer, the tiniest bit whiny in a way you know always makes him give in.
rafayel’s hand stutters over the canvas, swallowing before attempting to continue his brush strokes. he freezes in place when he feels your lips on his neck, feathery kisses placed around and on his Adam’s apple.
“for me?” you mumble against the skin, making your way up to his jaw line and smiling when he gulps.
“just a minute,” he reiterates, setting his brush and palette down before settling his hands on your hips. he can’t help but reciprocate the beaming smile you give him, the sparkle in your eyes makes his stomach flip.
you get off of his lap, rolling your eyes when he pouts at you. your only response is extending your hand towards him, tugging him towards the bedroom before snuggling under the blanket with him.
“you just wanted to get me in bed, didn’t you cutie?” he teases, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as you laughed.
“is it a crime to want to be in bed with my handsome boyfriend?”
“it’s gonna be a crime when thomas kills me for not meeting deadlines.”
“when have you ever?” you retort quickly, Rafayel pauses, smiles and presses his lips against yours.
“guess you’re right, the painting can wait,” his lips still pressed against yours as he repositions himself to have you under him, “now that you have me, what do you wanna do with me?”
a/n: drunk raf drabble :P might be some bulllllshiiiiitttttt sorry for any typos i did not proofread this at all nor will i be !
@snowypi here is my drunk drabble i have no idea if this has a single coherent sentence , forgive me
Summary: Pretending to be engaged to Sanji was easy. Convincing yourself it meant nothing was harder.
Word count: about 6700
Contains: fake dating, fake engagement, fluff, PINING, awkward overdramatic romance, mild angst, reader being insecure about how flirty Sanji is.
Authors note: there will be a part two pretty soon, I'm almost done
“There is absolutely no downside to pretending we’re engaged, my sweet love,” Sanji said, eyes shining as he carefully draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric brushing teasingly against your bare skin.
“Yes, except for the part where people would think I was engaged to you,” you teased, though you couldn’t stop the faint warmth spreading across your cheeks.
This was going to be a very long mission.
You could have spent hours wondering how exactly you’d ended up in a situation where you were pretending to be madly in love with a cook who seemed born for the role, only to find yourself sharing a honeymoon suite with him for four days.
And yet, there you were, standing in the middle of an absurdly luxurious hotel room, surrounded by flowers, mirrors, silk sheets, and enough romantic decoration to make you wonder what terrible crime you’d committed to deserve such a fate.
Then again, the room itself wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the ecstatic cook currently wandering around it with hearts in his eyes, tossing rose petals into the air and admiring towel arrangements shaped like various adorable, mythical, and, in your opinion, deeply nauseating creatures.
It had all started innocently enough...
The crew had needed information from a wealthy broker attending an exclusive gathering on a secluded resort island. Rumor had it he was acting as the middleman in the private sale of the only known Eternal Pose leading to an otherwise unreachable island, and Robin wasn’t about to let a lead like that slip away.
They didn’t need to steal it. All they had to do was find out who currently possessed the Eternal Pose, where the exchange would take place, and how it would be transported once the deal was done.
The problem was that access to the event was restricted to married couples and engaged pairs.
Simple enough, right?
Except no one had actually known that tiny, insignificant little detail until Sanji and you were already standing at the reception desk.
Up until that moment, he had behaved exactly as he always did around you: hovering attentively nearby, opening doors, showering you with compliments.
Which was why it wasn’t particularly surprising when the woman behind the counter smiled warmly at the two of you while checking your reservation.
“I assume you’re engaged. Ah, young love! You’re practically glowing! Access to the event is restricted to married and engaged couples only.”
The words struck you like lightning from a clear sky, and heat rushed to your face.
Before you could untangle your tongue enough to respond, however, Sanji’s eyes lit up.
This is the greatest day of my life, he thought.
Not with the smile he wore when flirting or charming every beautiful woman who crossed his path.
No, this one was confident. Victorious.
Like a man accepting the highest honor at an award ceremony.
Yes, that’s me. Her fiancé. That’s right. Absolutely.
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’ve been looking forward to bringing my fiancée somewhere like this and showing the whole world just how lucky I am.”
You stared at him.
“I wouldn’t dream of denying my honeybun an experience like this.”
…Honeybun?
The receptionist practically melted.
“How adorable! Let me just check… Ah, yes. A couple like you deserves our finest honeymoon suite.”
She handed the keys to the blond cook.
“It’s ready. Gorgeous sea view, enormous jacuzzi, private pool, spa… and plenty of privacy,” she added with a knowing smile. “Enjoy yourselves, lovebirds!”
Sanji somehow managed to beam even brighter, puffing out his chest like an outrageously proud peacock.
“We certainly will! Isn’t that right, my dear Y/N-swan?”
If the ground had opened beneath your feet at that very moment and swallowed you whole, you would have accepted it as a divine deus ex machina.
Sadly, reality remained intact.
“You’re just precious! Look at her! A wedding right around the corner, and he still has that effect on her. She’s red as a poppy!”
One tiny lie, as your so-called fiancé would later put it, caused absolute chaos.
Congratulations began pouring in from every employee they encountered. Complimentary champagne appeared. Cakes. Reservations for couples’ activities. And, worst of all, the luxurious suite would belong to the two of you for four long, seemingly endless days.
“Refusing would have looked suspicious. Besides, I wouldn’t have passed up an opportunity like this if my life depended on it,” your insane fake future husband explained later.
Four days of sweet, sickening romance with Sanji.
The prospect would have been far easier to endure if he weren’t a natural-born expert at expressing affection and performing grand gestures.
Every touch, every door he held open, every chair he pulled out, every compliment he offered came naturally to the cook. He would have done those things regardless, though admittedly with far less frequency and considerably less intensity.
What was happening at the hotel was something else entirely.
Everything had been exaggerated tenfold.
His hand never seemed to leave the small of your back. He introduced you to everyone with a radiant smile. He devoted his undivided attention to you, never leaving you alone for long, remembering every detail of every conversation.
Worst of all, none of it felt forced.
For the blond gentleman, playing the role of the perfect fiancé seemed as effortless as breathing.
For you, meanwhile, it had taken only a single evening to bring you dangerously close to throwing yourself into the ocean and abandoning the mission altogether.
The hardest part was allowing yourself to play along.
To act equally smitten.
You had simply never been that kind of person, even when it was only pretend.
The embarrassment was bad enough.
Feeling painfully aware of your own stiffness and inability to relax somehow made it even worse.
The problem wasn’t Sanji.
Far from it.
For all that his affection was generously distributed among every woman he met, there was still something undeniably pleasant about being cared for. He treated every woman on the crew like something precious, and his kindness extended to others as well, even if he could be considerably rougher around the edges with them.
No, what unsettled you was precisely how universal that affection was.
Instead of bolstering your confidence, it had the opposite effect.
Everything felt unreal.
And on your worse days, almost mocking.
Because there was simply no way someone could genuinely say those sorts of things about you.
By the time you were finally escorted to your suite, your “fiancé,” whose arm had remained securely around your waist the entire walk, seized an unexpected opportunity.
The moment you caught your foot on the elevator threshold, he swept you effortlessly into his arms.
Instinctively, you threw your arms around his neck.
“I can still sweep you off your feet,” he said with a wink.
The hotel staff collectively dissolved into delighted squeals.
Then, lowering his voice slightly, he added:
“And every time you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”
After he finally carried you over the threshold, murmuring, “A little rehearsal before the real thing, my love,” and the door clicked shut behind you, you immediately wriggled out of his arms.
Not without some difficulty.
The way he’d been holding you, firm and secure, had made it practically impossible to fall.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” you hissed, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart.
Sanji ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the carefully arranged curls you held so dear in the process.
“We don’t have a choice, my love” he said. “It’s the only way. You heard her. They’re only letting couples in.”
Then he paused, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you with unmistakable fondness.
“And, truthfully, I’m honored that I get to call a creature as lovely as you my fiancée. Even if it’s only for a little while.”
Just when you’d thought you’d recovered, your cheeks burst into flames all over again.
“…I suppose you’re right. We only have three more days to survive,” you sighed.
The next unavoidable disaster came when you finally took a proper look around the room.
It wasn’t terrible.
Actually, it was beautiful.
Spacious, decorated in warm tones, with enormous windows and a terrace overlooking the sea.
As far as positives went, however, that was where the list ended.
Because the first thing anyone would notice was the petals.
They were everywhere.
On the enormous king-size bed positioned shamelessly in the center of the room. Across the floor. Scattered over the pillows. Even hanging from the chandelier and ceiling fans, so that petals drifted down around you like rain whenever the blades moved.
An massive heart made of red, pink, and magenta rose petals had been arranged atop the comforter.
And, as the final touch, two towels folded into swans sat at its center, their beaks touching to form yet another heart.
Beside them rested a bowl of strawberries and a card that read:
“For unforgettable moments together.”
“Of course.”
“What?” Sanji asked as he wheeled the last suitcase inside. “This is magnificent! A swan for my Y/N-swan!”
You merely blinked.
The sheer predictability of the Straw Hat cook left you momentarily speechless.
That only made his grin widen.
“Come on, admit it. We’ve seen worse rooms. They could’ve put us in that suite with the mirror on the ceiling.”
You quickly looked away.
“I wouldn’t mind admiring your beauty from every possible angle.”
His smile turned positively roguish.
“Sure you wouldn’t,” you snorted.
Something akin to sympathy flickered through his eyes, but before he could say anything, he walked over to the bed, scooped up a handful of petals, and tossed them into the air.
The delicate red and pink confetti scattered around him, floating down in slow motion like something straight out of a perfume commercial.
“Isn’t it wonderful, my love?”
“They plucked and butchered an entire family of perfectly innocent flowers just to create some tacky nonsense about an ‘intimate retreat for lovers.’ Somewhere, a rose bush is missing half its relatives. Every time someone says ‘romantic getaway,’ a cupid dies.”
You brushed an irritated swath of petals off the bed and accidentally knocked one of the swans crooked.
Sanji laughed.
“You have a vivid imagination.”
He lit a cigarette and glanced around the room.
“You can tell they put a lot of effort into this. That’s dedication. Don’t wreck it. The staff must’ve spent ages setting all this up.”
Kind. Thoughtful. Considerate.
Your chest tightened slightly at the realization.
Still, you replied, far more gently than you’d intended:
“Well, we have to sleep somewhere.”
The world seemed to stop.
Had he thrown another handful of petals at that exact moment, they probably would’ve frozen midair.
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
You would’ve expected Sanji to short-circuit on the spot.
To start hyperventilating. To spring a nosebleed from the mere implication of spending the night in close proximity to you.
Instead, he cleared his throat and gave a small bow.
“No need to worry, milady. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“What?”
“It’s really no trouble,” he said, smiling more sincerely this time. “You didn’t ask to end up in this situation.”
Why was he so damn nice?
“Like hell you’re sleeping on the floor.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a pirate. I’ve slept in worse places. Besides, do you have any idea what it’s like sharing space with Luffy, Usopp, and Marimo? This is practically luxury.”
“So?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a pirate too. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Absolutely not.”
The playful tone vanished immediately.
“I’ve slept in worse places,” you repeated, throwing his own words back at him. “And yes, I’m grateful that I share a room with Nami and Robin now. They’re fantastic roommates. But I had a life before that. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. Sleeping on the floor isn’t going to kill me.”
Sanji’s eyes filled with equal parts determination and compassion.
“The day I allow any woman, especially you, to be uncomfortable is the day I’m no longer among the living and whatever horrors lurk beneath the Grand Line finally drag me down.”
You stared.
Your breath caught.
Heat rushed into your cheeks so suddenly it almost hurt.
“The bed is more than big enough.”
“That’s not the point,” he began.
Then he stopped when he realized you were serious.
“You can’t possibly be as stubborn as I am.”
He laughed.
“If a lady such as yourself insists on inviting me into bed with her, who am I to deny her?”
You immediately smacked him with the spare towel swan.
“Stop.”
He looked at you softly.
Steadily.
And for just a moment, some of the awkwardness evaporated.
“We’ll share the bed,” you confirmed.
Sanji’s expression became suspiciously neutral.
The sort of neutrality people only managed when they were trying very, very hard not to react.
“You stay on your side.”
You pointed a warning finger at him.
“Of course, my dear.”
“And don’t try anything weird.”
“Naturally.”
“You’re agreeing awfully fast.”
“I’m being cooperative.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Me?” He smiled innocently. “Never.”
The lying blond.
It was eventually time to shower.
The hotel had thoughtfully provided enormous fluffy bathrobes which, to your horror and Sanji’s delight, were embroidered in gold thread.
One read:
Future Mrs. Forever
The other:
Future Mr. Forever
“I’m going first.”
“Of course, my dear.”
“…And don’t even think about coming in, peeking, or trying to join me,” you warned.
Sanji looked genuinely offended.
“I wasn’t planning to! …Do you really think that little of me?”
The wounded look in his eyes sent a familiar sinking feeling twisting through your stomach.
Guilt. Unfortunately.
“And what about that time you spied on Nami, Vivi, and me?” you reminded him, as you always did.
His head immediately lowered.
“I’ll be apologizing for that for the rest of my life.”
As if he wouldn’t do it again, the pervert.
“I promise I’ll behave. Take your time. It’ll give me a chance to unpack.”
His voice softened.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you when he let out a long breath.
Somehow, he was going to earn your forgiveness.
Somehow, he was going to make you understand who he really was.
Sanji would freely admit that, in the past, he’d occasionally behaved like an idiot.
Chasing after every beautiful woman he saw, bending over backward to make them happy, sometimes even humiliating himself in the process, if Zoro was to be believed.
But he’d always thought the way he treated you was obviously different.
Now, however, he could see the problem.
When a man required medical attention every time a woman smiled at him, suffered catastrophic nosebleeds whenever he caught sight of a particularly attractive figure, and practically launched into orbit after receiving a hug, it was understandable that you might question the sincerity of his feelings.
Maybe, over the next few days, he’d finally be able to show you.
He lit a cigarette and sank back onto the couch.
Then another.
No matter what happened, he promised himself one thing:
he wouldn’t let you regret agreeing to come with him.
Inside the bathroom, you discovered a walk-in shower with not one but two rainfall showerheads, a bathtub large enough to comfortably fit six people, rose petals scattered across its surface, candles arranged around the edges, and, to top it all off, a small plaque that read:
“Because every romantic journey deserves to begin with a shared bath.”
“Good Lord.”
A knock sounded from the other side of the door.
“Everything alright in there?”
“There are flowers. In. The bathtub.”
“…Seriously?” he laughed.
“It’s like you designed this place yourself.”
“You’re flattering me.”
When you emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the enormous bathrobe, your hair still damp and your face free of makeup, Sanji nearly forgot how to breathe.
A goddess of this sea, he thought.
Though, if he was being honest, the look leaned far more toward comfort than glamour.
For a moment, he simply stared.
Then he quickly gathered himself and looked away.
“The bathroom’s free.”
“Thanks.”
You headed for your suitcase to retrieve your nightgown and toiletries.
I’m doomed, echoed through Sanji’s mind.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to maintain his composure for the rest of their stay at the resort.
By the time he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a navy silk pajama set and drying his hair with a towel, you were already tucked into bed on the left side, flipping through one of the resort brochures.
He greeted you and sat down on the edge of the mattress.
“What are you reading?”
You glanced up.
“I’m studying this absurdly elaborate brochure and wondering where we might find actual information about the Log Pose.”
He leaned closer to look over your shoulder.
The warmth of his body and the brush of his breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine.
You were beautiful, his mind screamed.
The sight of you in your nightgown. Your lovely hair. The shadow your lashes cast across your cheeks. The scent of shampoo, lotion, perfume, and all the little things that made you unmistakably you.
It would’ve brought kings to their knees.
Never mind an ordinary mortal like the Straw Hat cook.
Sanji physically forced himself to pull back.
“Sorry.”
Instead, he picked up another brochure from the bedside table.
Glancing through it, he found no useful information whatsoever.
The pages were packed with advertisements for couples’ massages, sunset cruises, private dinners beneath the stars, and enough heart-shaped decorations to make his eyes hurt.
“‘Renew your vows beneath our Moonlight Pavilion,’” he read aloud. “…They’re really committed to the theme.”
You snorted.
“I’ve learned more about their honeymoon packages than our actual mission.”
He hummed and closed the brochure.
“They wouldn’t advertise something like this openly.”
“No, but they still have to organize it somehow.” Resting your chin on your hand, you thought aloud. “People don’t just arrive on an island carrying priceless navigation equipment. Someone checks them in. Someone handles their luggage. Someone prepares their rooms.”
Something shifted in Sanji’s expression.
“…The staff.”
You nodded.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“I can work with that, my dear.”
“You can?”
“I’m a chef.” He shrugged as though the answer were obvious. “Professional kitchens love talking to other chefs. Give me an hour near theirs and somebody will complain about deliveries, difficult guests, or whoever ordered dinner at three in the morning.”
“You make espionage sound suspiciously easy.”
“It usually starts with food.”
You couldn’t help laughing.
“Then I’ll handle the guests.”
“The guests?”
“They’re wealthy.” You gestured vaguely with the brochure. “Wealthy people gossip. Especially when they think they’re talking to another harmless tourist.”
“So…” Sanji summarized, counting on his fingers. “I befriend the staff. You mingle with the guests.”
“And every evening we compare notes.”
He nodded.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Your gaze wandered around the outrageously romantic room once more before you sighed.
“…I just didn’t think reconnaissance would involve matching bathrobes.”
Sanji followed your eyes toward the embroidered robes hanging beside the wardrobe.
“…Or complimentary couple’s slippers.”
That night, the two of you lay on opposite ends of the enormous bed, so far apart that Zoro and Luffy could’ve comfortably fit between you.
Possibly Chopper too.
“…Are you planning to fall off?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re literally hanging between silk sheets and the abyss.”
“It’s fine.”
“Gravity is eventually going to win. I hope you know that.”
“I’m respecting your personal space,” he continued solemnly.
A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.
You rolled your eyes.
“Look how much room we have.”
“I’m aware.”
An idea suddenly struck you.
Grinning, you began arranging the decorative satin pillows between the two of you.
“There.”
“A barrier?” he asked, tilting his head dramatically.
“A border.”
He looked at you warmly.
“A neutral zone?”
“Exactly. If neither side violates the established boundaries, there will be no unfortunate consequences.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time.
“And as a firm guarantee of our neutrality and peaceful diplomatic relations…”
You grabbed a handful of leftover rose petals and scattered them across the pillow border.
“…our brave soldiers of the Red and Pink Rose Army.”
Sanji laughed and immediately joined in.
“I’ll be the reds!”
One of your movements accidentally brushed against something hidden near the headboard.
Suddenly, music filled the room.
“Love is in the air…”
Both of you jolted upright.
“What did you do?!”
“How should I know?!”
“Where do you turn this thing off?!”
After several frantic attempts, and after cycling through an alarming variety of songs ranging from cheerful pop music to heartbreaking ballads about eternal love conquering all earthly obstacles, soulmates separated by fate, and passions that transcended every boundary imaginable, you finally managed to silence it.
Then promptly collapsed into helpless laughter.
At last, you settled into bed properly.
No limbs dangling over the edge.
No imaginary cupids soaring triumphantly overhead.
Just silence.
Neither of you seemed capable of falling asleep.
The rhythmic chirping of insects drifted through the open window alongside the distant sound of waves.
And breathing.
“…Sanji?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“…Thank you.”
“For what?”
He turned toward you in the darkness.
“For offering to sleep on the floor.”
A pause.
“…There really wasn’t another option.”
You rolled onto your side and stared at him incredulously.
For a man who spent most of his life behaving exactly like Sanji, he certainly had nerve pretending otherwise.
“For you?” you said. “The same man whose thoughts managed to shock Viola, and that woman survived Doflamingo?”
Even in the darkness, you could practically feel him turning red.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“…I don’t want you to think that way about me,” he muttered.
His voice was quieter now.
“You’ll see. I’m not quite as hopeless or reckless as I probably seem at first.”
A smile spread across your face in the darkness.
Not that he could see it.
When you stirred awake at dawn to the sound of waves rolling against the shore, the pillow barricade had long since fallen victim to the countless movements of the night.
And yet, both of you had remained firmly on your respective sides of the bed, never brushing against one another even once.
Somehow, Sanji appeared to have spent the entire night hanging off the very edge of the mattress. One arm dangled toward the floor, one knee bent precariously over the side, and the blanket the two of you had shared, despite stretching over the ruined wall of pillows, offered him no warmth whatsoever in the coolness of the night and early morning. Nearly all of it had migrated to your side.
Frankly, he looked as though he would have slept more comfortably on the floor, as he’d originally suggested, and the faint shadows beginning to form beneath his eyes seemed to agree.
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you took a moment to study him.
His soft blond hair had transformed into a proper crow’s nest, no pun intended. It was so thoroughly disheveled that both spiral eyebrows were fully visible. Raising your hand, you traced the familiar shape of them in the air above his forehead without actually touching him.
You quickly withdrew your hand when his mouth fell open a little further and a faint snore drifted through the room.
A quiet fondness bloomed beneath your ribs and softened your expression.
He’s so handsome when he’s asleep, you thought.
Without the burden of constantly proving himself.
Without the sweetened compliments, poetic declarations, and endless displays of admiration he seemed to consider necessary whenever a woman crossed his path.
Once more, your gaze wandered across his peaceful sleeping features before you carefully pulled the blanket over him.
A tiny gesture.
One that reflected only a fraction of the countless unconscious acts of kindness and consideration he showered you with every day.
If only he could truly love me too, you thought.
Then you settled back onto your pillow, hoping to steal another hour of sleep.
Sunlight spilled into the enormous honeymoon suite where, side by side, lay two members of the Straw Hat crew, each entirely unaware of the effect they had on the other.
The cook was the first to awaken.
His eyelashes fluttered as he fought off the last traces of sleep, and almost immediately he noticed the warmth wrapped around his torso.
He was covered.
How could I allow such a thing to happen?
The thought struck him with immediate horror.
Despite all his efforts, despite spending most of the night stubbornly refusing to relax, he had apparently surrendered to unconsciousness and allowed dear Y/N to freeze while he selfishly stole the blanket for himself.
How would he ever recover from such disgrace?
Could such shame be washed away?
Had he truly committed such a crime even in his sleep?
Had he dared expose a delicate flower to the cold simply so his own selfish person could enjoy a little comfort?
Unforgivable.
Then he paused.
The blanket didn’t look as though it had been carelessly yanked away from a lady at all.
Quite the opposite.
It had been arranged with remarkable care, positioned almost geometrically around the places most vulnerable to the morning chill.
His eyes widened.
Could it be…?
Y/N-chan…
Brightest creature to ever set foot upon the Grand Line…
Thoughtful, caring, wonderful angel…
Goddess of my All Blue…
Stars practically exploded behind his eyes.
What had he done to deserve such kindness?
His gaze drifted toward your sleeping form.
You looked peaceful.
Content.
The soft rhythm of your breathing filled the quiet room.
Slowly, sunlight began creeping across your face.
When it finally reached your right eyelid, you stirred.
Sanji was already blushing by the time your eyes opened.
“’Morning,” you mumbled.
“Good morning, angel.”
You pushed yourself upright and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
A small part of you felt self-conscious under the intensity of his attention. Who knew what you looked like first thing in the morning?
“By the way,” you said, squinting at him, “it’s kind of creepy to stare at people while they’re sleeping.”
Sanji blinked in astonishment.
A remarkable statement coming from a woman who had, only a few hours earlier, been tracing the shape of his eyebrows in the air above his face.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Not even the greatest effort imaginable could keep me from looking when such beauty is right in front of me.”
Whether it was the sunlight, lingering sleepiness, the way he was looking at you, or his words themselves, you couldn’t say.
All you knew was that the blush spreading across your cheeks deepened considerably.
After a surprisingly peaceful breakfast, if one ignored the heart-shaped pancakes, the complimentary “Lovers’ Blend” coffee, and the waiter who insisted on taking a commemorative photograph, you finally had a chance to focus on the reason you were there.
Sanji, for his part, had been absolutely delighted by the photo. At one point, he’d proudly drawn you against his chest and looked at you with such ridiculous tenderness that you’d actually laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
“It would be a crime not to take a picture of such a lovely couple! Especially when you’re wearing that beautiful dress. I refuse to let an opportunity like this go to waste.”
The photograph had been taken.
Unfortunately.
Sanji unfolded the resort map between the two of you.
“So,” he said, tapping the paper. “Where do we start?”
Resting your chin on your hand, you studied the various amenities listed across the island.
“I’ll start with the kitchens,” he declared.
Leaning over your shoulder, he allowed his lips to brush your bare shoulder in passing for the benefit of a pair of employees walking nearby.
You felt a shiver race down your spine at the subtlety of it.
“You don’t even work here.”
“I don’t have to.”
His grin widened, visibly charmed by your flustered reaction.
“A chef recognizes another chef. Give me twenty minutes.”
“And if they throw you out?”
“They won’t.”
“…You’re awfully confident.”
“They’ll feed me first.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
“Alright, Mr. Master Chef.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll mingle.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
He lit a cigarette.
“Perhaps it would be safer if you enjoyed the spa, got a massage or two, and waited until I’ve figured out what we’re dealing with.”
You cut him off immediately.
“I’m perfectly capable of surviving crowds far more troublesome than this, and you know it. The only real danger is that I’ll lose my mind listening to conversations about imported wine and scented bath salts.”
Sanji nodded.
Apparently deciding it would be wise to hold his tongue in the future.
“I’ll pray for your survival.”
“Please do.”
He stood, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt.
Two can play this game, you thought.
Rising to your feet, you reached up to straighten his collar yourself, stepping closer and lowering your voice near his ear.
“We’re meeting back here for dinner, darling?”
Sanji froze.
Then unfroze.
Then seemingly forgot how to breathe.
Then remembered and started breathing far too hard.
His heart hammered against his ribs like an overenthusiastic woodpecker.
“Y-Y/N-swan!”
He practically melted.
Then hastily pulled himself together and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’ll come find you sooner than that,” he promised softly. “The moment I’m finished.”
The kitchens turned out to be exactly as Sanji had predicted.
Organized chaos.
Steam curled from simmering pots. Knives struck cutting boards in rapid rhythm. Orders flew across the room louder than cannon fire.
Sanji lingered outside the entrance for all of thirty seconds before spotting one of the sous-chefs struggling with a crate of vegetables.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
“Need a hand?”
The older man blinked.
Then let out a grateful sigh.
“Wouldn’t say no, young man.”
One crate became two.
Two became helping unload supplies.
Which somehow transformed into correcting the seasoning in a seafood chowder.
The head chef took one bite.
“…Who made this?”
Standing nearby, Sanji shrugged with practiced nonchalance.
“I only added a little thyme.”
By lunchtime, nobody questioned why he was there.
Stories, recipes, culinary disasters, and tales of memorable guests flowed as freely as the food. They exchanged anecdotes about everyone from high-ranking Marines to infamous pirates, a subject on which Sanji, naturally, had plenty to contribute.
He blended into the crowd so effortlessly it was as if he’d worked there for years.
At one point, a waiter grumbled that Villa Twelve had once again requested dinner for two to be delivered precisely at nine o’clock.
“The strange part,” another waiter added, “is that only one guest is registered there.”
“Maybe they’re lonely,” Sanji suggested casually while chopping herbs.
The waiter snorted.
“Not lonely enough to eat two full-course meals every night.”
Another cook joined the conversation.
“And they’re ridiculously secretive. Management personally delivers the second place setting.”
Interesting.
Sanji continued sautéing vegetables and preparing meats while quietly absorbing every piece of kitchen gossip that might lead them toward the information they needed.
Meanwhile, your own investigation proved exhausting in a completely different way.
The resort had thoughtfully organized what they called A Morning of Shared Serenity.
In practice, this consisted of wealthy couples drinking tea while discussing each other’s lives with astonishing enthusiasm.
You smiled.
Nodded.
Spoke fondly of your wonderful fiancé, who unfortunately wasn’t present at the moment, while mentally noting that if you ever had to attend one of these events again, Sanji would absolutely be coming with you.
Every pretentious comment was met with polite interest.
Every boast was encouraged.
Every complaint was carefully entertained.
Somewhere between the second and third discussion about luxury yachts, an older woman leaned toward her companion.
“The Beaumonts reserved the Moonlight Pavilion again.”
“They always do.”
Your ears immediately perked up.
“Tomorrow evening, wasn’t it?”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Apparently they’re finally meeting that business associate they’ve been waiting for.”
You stirred your tea and kept your expression pleasantly neutral.
Now that’s something.
Another guest sighed dramatically.
“I do hope they aren’t discussing business all night. It ruins the atmosphere.”
“They rented the entire pavilion.”
“Again?”
“Mhm. Complete privacy.”
You took another sip of tea to hide the smile threatening to appear.
People with entirely too much money truly couldn’t resist gossiping.
By the time dinner finally arrived, you felt as though your social battery had been completely drained and was in desperate need of emergency intervention.
You’d stopped by your room beforehand to freshen up and change clothes, reviving yourself with several chocolates from the complimentary gift basket. Sugar had always possessed the miraculous ability to raise you from the dead.
When you entered the dining hall, however, there was no sign of your “future husband”.
Just as you approached the table, a familiar voice called out:
“My beloved.”
You turned.
The blond man with spiral brows stepped toward you and gently pressed a kiss to your hand.
“My eyes are blessed to see you. You look beautiful, as always.”
For a moment, the two of you simply looked at one another.
Then he pulled out your chair.
All around you, elderly couples decorated in varying degrees of extravagance watched the exchange and sighed dreamily.
As you sat down and he carefully moved your chair closer to the table, Sanji leaned near your ear.
“Tonight, I’ll have the honor of feeding you myself. I helped prepare dinner with the chefs.”
You laughed and glanced at him.
“You always feed me.”
Then, more quietly:
“You’re the cook of our crew.”
“And it’s always an honor, Y/N-swan.”
His gaze settled on yours.
Deep and attentive.
As it always did, it immediately found what it was looking for.
“Long day?”
“I know entirely too much about honeymoon cruises,” you muttered.
He laughed softly.
Once you had both been served, with several enthusiastic recommendations from your personal chef, the conversation turned more serious.
“I’ve got something.”
Sanji smiled over the rim of his wine glass.
“So do I.”
“You first.”
He shook his head.
“Ladies first.”
You sighed dramatically.
“I think someone important arrives tomorrow.”
“They’re already here.”
Your eyes widened.
“…What?”
“The kitchen has been preparing dinner for two in Villa Twelve since yesterday evening.”
You frowned.
“But only one guest checked in.”
“Officially.”
The single word was enough.
Your thoughts immediately arrived at the same conclusion.
“The business associate.”
Sanji inclined his head.
“I’d wager they’ve been on the island for at least a day. Whoever arranged this meeting has gone to considerable lengths to keep their arrival off the books, but kitchens notice the sort of details people assume they’ll overlook.”
Despite yourself, you leaned forward.
“What exactly did you hear?”
“One waiter complained about delivering two full-course dinners every evening to a villa occupied by a single registered guest. Another mentioned that management personally handles the second place setting and that nobody is allowed to ask questions.”
A thoughtful silence settled between you.
Your fingers traced absent circles around the stem of your wine glass.
“That explains something.”
His attention sharpened immediately.
“The Beaumonts?”
You nodded.
“I spent the morning surrounded by people who gossip the way sailors drink, and somewhere between discussions about yachts and charity galas, two women mentioned that the Beaumonts had reserved the entire Moonlight Pavilion tomorrow evening. Apparently they’re finally meeting the business associate they’ve been waiting for.”
The corner of Sanji’s mouth lifted.
“So your gossip confirms mine.”
Leaning back in your chair, you watched the scattered pieces suddenly arrange themselves into a coherent picture.
“The associate arrived quietly and has been hidden in Villa Twelve. Tomorrow night’s reservation isn’t just dinner.”
Your eyes met across the table.
“It’s the meeting we’ve been looking for.”
Sanji nodded slowly.
“Exactly.”
For a brief moment, neither of you touched your food.
The sounds of cutlery, conversation, and soft music faded into the background as you considered what this meant.
Then, almost absentmindedly, you smiled.
“I have to admit, I thought spending the afternoon listening to wealthy socialites complain about one another would be the least useful assignment.”
“And I thought I was simply making soup.”
A laugh escaped you.
At that exact moment, the music changed.
Violins.
Cellos.
Double basses.
A graceful symphony swept through the dining hall.
Several couples were already dancing together, moving across the floor in perfect harmony.
Sanji’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Milady,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your skin, “may I have this dance?”
You rose almost automatically, carried along by the moment, and your feet felt strangely light as he drew you closer.
“But Sanji,” you whispered through gritted teeth, thoroughly embarrassed, “I don’t know how to dance.”
A fond smile touched his lips.
He looked genuinely charmed by your expression.
“Don’t worry, my dear.”
His voice softened.
“Just follow me.”
As the distance between you disappeared, Sanji placed his right hand lightly against your shoulder blade, his arm forming a strong, protective frame. He guided your left hand to his shoulder, and your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket.
Then he offered you a reassuring smile.
It’s alright.
You’ll be fine.
Slowly, the two of you began to sway together.
The steady rise and fall of his breathing seemed to provide a rhythm all its own.
Or at least it probably should have.
You had only the vaguest idea what you were doing.
Feeling the subtle shift of his weight onto his right foot, he guided you to mirror him. You softened your knees and stepped back.
For several glorious seconds, everything went perfectly.
Then you stepped directly on his foot.
Mortified, you immediately began apologizing.
Sanji behaved as though nothing had happened.
He stopped you by lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm.
“Relax, my dear. You’re doing wonderfully.”
A blatant lie.
“I didn’t even feel it.”
Another one.
Noticing your discomfort beneath the curious eyes of the surrounding guests, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned close enough for only you to hear.
“Don’t pay attention to anyone else.”
His voice was warm.
“They aren’t important.”
And somehow, after that, they really weren’t.
The music continued.
You found the rhythm again.
And gradually, you had to admit that you were enjoying yourself.
The closeness. The undivided attention. The feeling that, for a little while, the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.
As though the two of you were the only people that mattered.
As though you were infinitely precious to one another.
That night, after returning to the suite and preparing for bed, both of you were exhausted.
Somehow, even more exhausted than after many of the adventures that had involved actual fighting.
And yet there was a strange lightness to it as well.
Perhaps because you had genuinely enjoyed spending the day together.
Lying beneath the covers, it all felt surprisingly natural.
Probably because we’ve lived together on the ship for so long, you told yourself, attempting to rationalize it.
After only two days of pretending, the routine no longer felt particularly forced.
There was something deeply comforting about his presence.
The effortless courtesy.
The chairs he pulled out for you.
The jackets draped over your shoulders whenever it grew cold.
The way he always insisted you shower first.
The privacy he gave you without ever being asked.
Even sharing a bed.
If it had been anyone else, you weren’t sure you would’ve managed to close your eyes at all.
Yet lying here beside him, with his sleeping hand unconsciously holding yours against his chest, over his heart, it felt as though you’d been doing this your entire life.
Existing in one another’s immediate orbit.
Close. Vulnerable. Safe.
And that frightened you a little.
Because alongside that comfort came hope.
A painful, stubborn hope.
That perhaps, despite everything, there was still a chance he truly thought you were worth loving.
Can you write something similar to your last sylus work (mc carefully spending her money) with rafayel? 😅
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel x gn!reader ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt/comfort! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚we all deserve a raffy in our lives ૮๑ˊ ꒳ ˋ๑ა if only things were that simple and easily achievable, ughhhh!
your mother used to tell you not to indulge, but to save up.
“you never know,” she repeated, and you believed her.
you never know when an emergency could happen, or if you'd ever find yourself needing a scandalous amount to solve a problem, hence why you followed her advice.
but when would it be enough?
when would you stop saving up and start enjoying what you've earned?
when would you stop worrying about money, about your income, about your salary?
when would you hand out your credit card carelessly on a shopping spree, smiling at the cashier like a kid in a candy store?
maybe that life wasn't meant for you —and that was fine. you constantly told yourself it was fine, your mother was wise, and you did well by being cautious.
though you wondered why it felt so bad when it was supposed to be a good thing, you buried that feeling away. you couldn't afford to be greedy, let alone start wishing for things you knew you'd never have.
or well, that was until a certain someone stole your heart.~
unluckily for your mom and your rigid mentality, rafayel had other plans for you.
he'd come to visit with bags of expensive things, most of which he claimed he bought “by accident.”
but, come on, he bought the finest groceries, the freshest fruit and veggies, and even some delicacies you've never heard about… by accident?
he misclicked or accidentally swiped his credit card?
yeah, right.
then, you'd find beautiful clothes in your closet, ones you clearly didn't buy yourself since they still had the price tags on and they were ridiculously expensive.
you tried to make it stop, but he had the nerve to shrug it off and act like he didn't understand what you were saying.
“maybe you have a fashion fairy, cutie,” he'd simply answer, kissing your cheek. “or maybe you're manifesting so hard that your wishes are coming true.”
he was that goddamn fairy, but it was impossible to stop him and his stubborn need to spoil you.
the last straw came when you mentioned needing something for a hobby of yours.
it was something minuscule, really, something that you knew would improve the experience, but would most likely remain a childish dream of yours, like many other things you've wished for since you were very young.
and that very same night, you found lots of different tools and supplies in your living room, with amazing quality and, well, a price you didn't want to know.
you couldn't accept it.
your mind couldn't comprehend having expensive things, even when you weren't the one who spent money on them.
you called rafayel, telling him to come see you as soon as he could, and he arrived with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with what he'd done.
this was the easiest way to spoil you without you rejecting it; by doing it behind your back.
shady, he was aware, but… he had to do it somehow.
“rafayel,” you sighed, looking around before meeting his gaze. “i can't accept this, i'm sorry...”
he tilted his head, sitting on your couch.
“why not, my pearl?”
“because… because i don't need these.”
“that's not what you said,” he tilted his head to the other side now, smiling. “you said you needed them.”
“i said it would be nice, not that i needed them…”
“same thing. needs or wants… you can have both,” he shrugged, patting his lap for you to sit down.
you didn't.
“rafayel, i don't need expensive things… i'm used to living like this, with things i can afford. don't spend money on me, please.”
he stared at you before standing up. he stepped closer and closer, making you step back.
“you're used to living like this, but do you enjoy it?” his smile faded, no more playfulness behind those pretty eyes. “i want to spoil you.”
“but—”
he cupped your cheeks, leaning in.
“don't. you've been denying yourself a lot of things, but i won't let you forbid me from enjoying myself either,” he spoke firmly, making your breath hitch.
you didn't even realize that.
you were denying him the things he enjoyed, just like you've been doing with your own interests.
“and i enjoy giving you the things that you want, the things that make your eyes sparkle, the things you see and could only dream of having one day,” he whispered. “but, my pearl, i'm afraid that day will never come if you keep waiting.”
you remained quiet, not knowing what to say.
“i'm not telling you to go nuts and spend half a million in one day, but… you deserve to have nice things. you've worked hard for them your entire life. you're kind, you worry about others, you're good… why must you punish yourself like this?”
without you noticing, tears started to roll down your cheeks.
punishing…?
was that why saving all the time felt so draining?
he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, pulling you in for a hug.
“those little trinkets you see, that midnight snack you crave, those useless sheets of cute stickers, or even that expensive bag you really, really want… let me take care of those,” he offered, his voice now soft against your ear, melodic like a siren's call.
you were still hesitant.
you couldn't let rafayel take care of everything, not without feeling extremely guilty.
your mother would be against this so, so badly…
but, as if sensing your distress, he backed away and caressed your wet cheek.
“i'll let you take care of your responsible expenses if i must, but the indulgent ones?” he grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss on your lips. “they're mine to spoil you with.”
“rafayel…”
“don't worry,” he reassured, kissing you again. “if you still feel bad… you can spoil me in your own way.”
“...and how would i do that?” you frowned, studying his mischievous expression.
he smirked, pressing his forehead against yours.
“a kiss of yours is worth millions in my world. i'm high maintenance, though. you'll need a minimum of twenty a day to keep me satisfied.”
“raffy…” you groaned, rolling your eyes.
“twenty-one, now that you're being a brat.”
“rafayel!”
“twenty-two.~”
you giggled and hugged him tight, his arms immediately wrapping around your body.
“let me spoil you, please…”
you took a shaky breath and looked up at him.
“don't go overboard, please… it overwhelms me a little.”
he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose.
“define overboard,” he grinned, pointing at all of the gift bags around you. “because this is just a tiny little gesture, my pearl.”
“rafayel!”
“okay, fine! fine… whatever makes you happy,” he sat back down and sprawled out on your sofa, grinning. “now, about those twenty-two kisses…” he tapped his lips, moving his eyebrows suggestively.
you shook your head, exasperated. but, deep down, this was one of the things you enjoyed doing, and… indulging couldn't be as bad as you've been told all your life, right?~
hiii, if you haven’t done this already, could you do some hurt/comfort with Rafayel where reader is really self-conscious about their appearance and not feeling pretty enough? Been struggling as of late and just looking for something to cheer me up ^-^
𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel x gn!reader ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt-ish/comfort! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭
𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭
﹙♡﹚hello, hello! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ this request hit a little bit hard, ngl. i hope it was comforting enough!!! thanks for requesting, and i hope you feel better soon, angel ♡
whenever you looked at your boyfriend, you wondered how on earth you managed to become his partner.
he looked stunning no matter the day or occasion. even if he was covered in paint, sweaty after a long workout, or tired after not sleeping for days, he had a healthy glow to his skin and a gorgeous glimmer in his eyes.
naturally, you couldn't help but compare yourself, and not out of jealousy, but rather out of embarrassment.
you weren't nearly as perfect, and you doubted he saw you that way, especially during those days when you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror.
you were also aware of how many influential and attractive people surrounded him, given his line of work and prestige.
they were all better than you in every aspect, and, one day, rafayel would notice that.
one day, he convinced you to go with him on an early stroll by the beach. he said the sunrise would look amazing, and that you two could enjoy some time alone in front of the crashing waves.
you didn't want to; you knew you wouldn't look your best after just waking up. your hair would look weird, your skin would probably look patchy, and being at the beach would require loose or very minimal clothing given the heat.
it was a huge no for you.
however, rafayel was a master in the charming arts, so it took him five minutes to convince you and practically drag you out once you were ready.
naturally, you were awfully self-conscious.
you fidgeted with your shirt, trying not to focus on anything; not even on your bare feet, which you also started to criticize and hide under the sand for some reason.
nothing about you felt appealing.
rafayel sat down next to you, rambling about god knows what. he pointed at the sea, then chuckled and moved his hands around while explaining something.
you nodded along, wondering if your side profile looked good from his point of view, or if your nose looked ugly…
he soon noticed your distracted state and tilted his head, leaning closer.
“...and i told him that she sells seashells on the seashore. the shells she sells are seashells,” he said, testing you.
“yeah…” you nodded once again.
he arched an eyebrow, poking your cheek.
“so you're not even listening to me, huh?”
you blinked, finally realizing what he had been saying.
“wait, you were just—”
“yeah, yeah, blame me,” he sighed. “so... wanna tell me what's on your mind?”
you sighed too, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“it's nothing, raffy…”
“oh, sure, you're just staring at the sand with a frown like a sad little crab.” he poked your cheek again.
“...can crabs even get sad?” you gently pushed his hand away, pouting slightly.
“they would if they saw your pretty face all gloomy,” he grinned before resting his chin on your shoulder.
“rafayel…”
“yeah?” he leaned closer, and when you turned around to look at him, you met his beautiful eyes staring back at you.
his long eyelashes fluttered as he smiled.
you hesitated.
you didn't want to ruin the mood by complaining about your insecurities.
“do you ever wonder if…” you trailed off, looking down once again. your index finger now traced little circles in the sand.
“if…?” he sat back, following the circles with his gaze.
“if… you would be better off with someone prettier,” you whispered finally, your hand freezing in place and your eyes closing, as if expecting him to explode.
but, much to your surprise, you were only met with the soft crash of the waves.
he was stunned, looking at you with a perplexed expression.
had he heard correctly?
“prettier…?” he echoed. “than you?”
you looked up and quietly nodded.
“you're kidding me,” he stood up, crossing his arms. “you know, that's not funny, cutie.”
you stood up as well, frowning a little.
“i— i'm not kidding, rafayel! i'm being serious!” you insisted, stepping closer. “i don't feel like i'm good enough, like i'm pretty enough! i feel like… like you could do so much better!”
his eyes widened the more you spoke, or rather spat the words out.
“just think about it! you could literally date a supermodel, or… or… or someone who doesn't look weird and so… 'meh' and—” you waved your hands around as you rambled, until he held them tightly, stopping you.
“enough,” his voice came out far too serious, so much so that you jumped. “that's enough.”
your lips remained parted, your breathing fast and erratic.
he pulled you closer, looking down at you.
all of you.
from your toes to the crown of your head, there was not a single inch of skin he didn't study.
“rafayel…”
“who told you that?” he whispered. “who made you believe that?”
you swallowed hard.
“…no one.”
“no one?” he arched an eyebrow, clearly doubting you.
“i just look at myself and see… me,” you shrugged. “every day, every night… it's exhausting, rafayel. exhausting.”
his gaze softened, and he cupped one of your cheeks, his hands trembling slightly.
“oh, no, no… my beautiful pearl. that's the problem, you fail to see yourself through my eyes…”
you stared at him, confused.
through his eyes?
he took one of your hands and pulled you toward the shore.
“if you knew how much i love looking at you,” he said softly, pulling you closer.
the water touched your feet, tickling your toes.
“if you knew how much i love your face…” he cupped your cheeks, squishing them lightly. “your cheeks, your nose, your pretty eyes…”
your eyes met his the more he spoke.
“your lips, your hair, your skin… your smile, your cute little frown, your scent…”
you tried to speak, but his hands found your hips, and he pulled you closer, the water lapping around your ankles.
“your neck, your ears, your shoulders… and your amazing hands,” he pressed his forehead against yours. “i could stare at you for hours and hours, and still find something new to admire.”
you were speechless, your breath shaky.
“and don't take it from me as your boyfriend. take it from me as a man who has seen gorgeous things over and over again for many, many years,” he whispered against your lips. “and yet you are the most beautiful thing i've ever laid eyes on.”
you clutched his shirt, tears streaming down your cheeks without you even noticing.
he kissed them away, his eyes shutting closed.
“so please… please, don't you ever say something like that again, my pearl. never,” he shook his head. “you have no idea how blessed i feel to be the one by your side; and if i had to kneel and worship you just to thank you for the opportunity, i would do so without hesitation.”
“but i—”
“no. no buts. i love you. i love all of you. i love every single inch of you, inside and out,” he kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your lips…
and then he kneeled in the water, kissing your chest, belly, thighs and—
“okay, okay, yes, i got it!” you squeaked, helping him get back up with wide eyes.
he stood up reluctantly and hugged you tight, kissing your head repeatedly.
“you're divine, cutie. and yeah, smart, talented, amazing; all of that,” he pulled back to look at you. “but beautiful too. very, very beautiful. stunning, breathtaking, ethereal, even. i haven't once, nor will i ever, considered being in a better place than right here, next to you.”
you smiled softly, nuzzling his nose.
“you promise?”
“as long as the sun continues to rise every day, yes.”
and, luckily for you, that would be forever.
you hugged him back, rubbing your cheek against his chest as you turned to watch the sunrise with him.
you didn't quite feel like your problems had vanished; if anything, you were afraid of feeling bad and insecure again in the future.
however, right now, you were sure rafayel truly saw you in a way you couldn't see yourself, and if he kept that convincing charm and way of luring you in, then perhaps you would learn to love yourself too.
he tells you time and time again nothing will ever change his stance on the tiny apex predator who lounges around your apartment, staring at him and blinking slowly.
“look they’re even mocking me!” he pouts, crossing his arms and turning to you, “cutie can’t we just go to mine?”
“they slow blink when they love you, and no we go to yours all the time! we need to spend more time with our kid,” you emphasize the ‘our’ despite having had the cat before you’d met rafayel.
“that is not mine,” he huffs, narrowing his eyes at the cat before curling up next to you on the couch. “never gonna change my mind,” he mumbles, cheek squished against you as you run your fingers through his hair.
“you’ll come around, mark my words,” you chuckle, kissing his forehead and smoothing the wrinkles between his brows. rafayel shakes his head ‘no,’ side eyeing your cat as they stretched out and jumped to stare out the window.
two weeks later the three of you head to the beach, (rafayel was strongly against the kitty invading his “safe space,” you convinced him with many kisses), and lo and behold; your cat walks RIGHT into the ocean and starts swimming like it’s no one’s business.
rafayel’s knees hit the ground, hands covering his mouth as he stares at your cat, swimming right up to the shore and meeting him in the sand, headbutting the artist and staring up at him, as if waiting for his approval.
a small ‘mreow’ leaves the felines mouth, wet fur rubbing on rafayel before turning around and getting back in the water, swimming in a circle before facing your boyfriend once more.
“look he turned out to be part fish like his dad!” you tease, holding the leash tightly so your kitty didn’t swim too far. you turn to look at Rafayel, biting back your laughter when you see tears welling in his eyes as he looks at cat, arms extending and scooping the wet ball of fur into his chest.
“please forgive daddy for being mean to you, my sweet sweet baby,” he murmurs into the cats fur, placing kisses to its small face. you can hear your cat purring, your jaw almost on the sand as you take in the sight before you.
“bet you like seafood too huh? want some lobster? dads got some scallops he can make you, yes he can,” he coos softly, voice softer and a higher pitch than usual.
rafayel, notorious cat hater, was placing a flurry of kisses on your cats face. and your cat was having the time of its life, eyes shut and tail swooshing languidly.
after a moment Rafayel walked deeper in the water with your cat, his sunset eyes shimmering as he watched your cat swim alongside him, soft laughter leaving his body and wrapping around your heart tightly.
“are you gonna get in the water? we’re having so much fun!” Rafayel calls out, he’s sitting in the water, soft waves crashing onto his chest as he watches your kitty carefully, stealing glances at your enamored face.
“yeah ‘m going,” you reply quickly, staring at the pair quietly for a moment before walking towards them, placing a kiss to Rafayels cheek when you get next to him.
“told you you’d come around,” you mumble with a grin, nudging your boyfriend. he scoffs at you, a smile still on his face as he watches you cat swim up to him once more, meowing to be picked up, he obliges immediately.
“yeah, yeah, guess my cutie knows me better than i do myself,” he hums happily. your heart flutters in your chest, stomach flipping as rafayel turns to you with an equally love struck look on his face.
a/n: this is based off this tiktok i saw and immediately thought of raf hehe,, sorry if this is buns i wrote this between study breaks and just wanted to post it lolz
